Mad Love
by Rauslly-R5-lover
Summary: Special agent Moon, usually recruited for rather dull cases, now faces a new investigation on a cruise ship concerning a drug trafficking. His rationality and judgment are tested when certain suspects require more of his attention than others, when people are willing to lie to keep their loved ones safe, and some kill to save themselves.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello sweet, few fanfiction readers that are still here.**

 **I'm sorry for the late upload. You might know I annually start a new story every October/November. I was planning on sticking to it, though a few things came up. I wanted desperately to complete the story before posting the first chapter (still didn't manage) and I've, sadly, fallen back into the deep dark hole that some call depression. I don't mean to excuse my tardiness, but it's something you should know.**

 **I will be updating every Sunday at 10PM AMS, though I'll post chapter 2 in two weeks, just to give chapter one enough time to be seen. This one will be introductory, as usual, and I'm sorry to say that Ally won't make an appearance just yet.**

 **This is my first ever attempt at writing a mysterious romance. It was a challenge, but I love what I've written so far. I hope you guys can appreciate this new genre. I promise you will love it if you can give it a chance.**

* * *

"Fingerprints that were captured from the counter were linked to the suspect after being analysed. Security footage matched the suspect's confession," Austin Moon mouths the words automatically as he puts the final touches on the police report. After filling in the date and scanning over the document, he presses print and makes a mental note to drop it off at his chief's office. He sighs. He wasn't particularly skilled at writing reports like this but he was damn well starting to believe it, as it was one of the few things he had been allowed to do. It was like the chief didn't trust him with anything else.

As if this didn't make him doubt his abilities enough, he had the feeling that the more experienced officer that was assigned to 'guide' him through his introduction period had done a great job at overshadowing him. He didn't need someone to hold his hand, for god's sake, he was perfectly capable of handling the ropes himself, just like any other functioning adult. If they didn't think he had it in him to become a special agent, why would they have issued a contract letter to him in the first place? On second thought, he had a decent clue.

"Moon." Speaking of the devil. His so-called 'partner for an undecided period' was standing at his desk, silently judging the untidiness that his own booth couldn't compare to. The first thing Austin noticed about his partner's appearance, was the man's pale complexion. Officer Lewis was aged, in comparison to Austin at least, but the bags under his eyes seemed particularly dark today. Naturally, Austin couldn't pass up the opportunity to make him aware of them.

"Lewis," Austin states in response while leaning backwards in his chair. "You look terrible. Did you attempt to locate all your grey hairs last night and lost count?" He grins.

"As much as I'd love to give you a clever retort, now's not the time." The agent rolls his eyes, an everlasting unamused expression on his face, before pointing over his shoulder in a hurried gesture. "Chief wants us in his office." Austin barely has time to fetch the report and catch up with him before Lewis hastily knocks and waits for permission to enter. Figures, whenever Austin needed to speak with his boss, he'd be expected to make a two-week prior appointment, but once the important guy ever-so raised a finger, they better be lying at his feet in an instant. It's an authority thing.

"Come in," a gruff voice demands from behind the closed door. The two enter to reveal their faces in which the old man gestures for them to take place on the two wooden chairs facing his big, oaken desk.

"Sir," Lewis speaks in a formal greeting, Austin nodding as a likewise salute before handing him the report he had been working on earlier.

"Lewis, Moon," the man responds as he takes the file and flips through it without making eye contact with either of the agents. A minute of silence fills the room, as the fear of judgement washes over Austin. The supervisor inhales shortly through his nose, the only validation Austin knows he will get. "Congratulations on the robbery case," he speaks, enthusiasm lacking his voice. "Decent work."

"Thank you, sir," Lewis says and Austin stays silent. Since Lewis did most of the work anyway, it feels inappropriate for him to acknowledge the compliment, so he diverts his eyes.

"How would you two feel about going abroad for your next assignment?" Austin's head snaps up. That seemed like an awful lot of responsibility for an officer with his experience, or rather lack off, and one look at his partner proved he shared his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, sir, but with all due respect, I'm uncertain that's a wise decision," Lewis carefully objects.

"Are you questioning my ability to think rationally, agent?" With the raise of one of his dark grey eyebrows, the chief silences Austin's co-worker.

"No, sir."

"Perfect," he nods. The office chair creaks slightly as he rises from it. From one of the grey file cabinets that frame the room, he finds a thick document package with no apparent effort, like the importance of the file caused him to memorise its location. "Are you two familiar with the cellophane chandlers." The question is not so much of a question, rather a statement.

"The trafficking case from 2015. An organisation of an unknown number of drug dealers working in Europe. We picked it up after they got connected to two homicides." Fortunately, Lewis appears to know exactly what he's talking about and saves Austin from possible humiliation. Even after a year of internship and a few months of being a paid employee, he still feels like a rookie. Two years ago, Austin hadn't even considered starting a career as special agent.

The chief nods again while sitting down again. "They have never been seen and not a single member has ever been identified. It was filed as a cold case after a year of no progress, but we have kept tabs on them ever since. And, recently, we have picked up a pattern." He leans over his desk to hand the two agents the file. Lewis reaches out, but the chief moves it closer to Austin, giving Lewis a significant look in which the agent quickly leans back again. Austin takes the document, unsure of how to interpret their exchange, so he just thumbs through it as the chief continues. "It has been discovered that the team uses cruise ships as transport, one line in specific. We have researched their schedule and, if they work as consistently as they have in the past, their next shipment leaves the harbour of Rotterdam this week."

"Rotterdam?" Austin looks up, trying to hide the excitement on his face. The name suddenly realised the international aspect and it was strange to imagine actually working abroad. Lewis takes advantage of his loss of focus to inch his chair closer and look into the file, too.

"According to the patterns studied over the past year, this Friday, the Dutch cruise line DFDS will carry almost thirty kilograms of cocaine along the east coast of England and unload at its final stop, Southened-on-Sea, where it will be transported to London." The chief ignores his question as he gives them all vital information. "You will be looking into the staff of the ship to try and uncover who is part of the organisation."

"Why are we so sure the team is part of the staff?" Austin asks in order to sound somewhat involved. He's noticed that, so far, he has only said one word and that is definitely not granting him any intelligence points. Though, he is rapidly notified that this was not the best question to ask.

"Do you reckon we wouldn't have caught these men if they were tourists, going on the same trip on a fixed schedule for years consecutively?" Austin chooses not to answer this rhetorical question and instead quietly continues reading the page in his lap. Lewis speaks up, raising a question that _does_ add something to the conversation.

"How long do we have?" Austin isn't sure whether to be thankful for not stretching the awkward situation or to envy the way he uses Austin's obliviousness to make himself seem like the better agent.

"The ship will take seven days to reach its destination after departure."

"Just a week?" Austin can't contain himself. The best agents hadn't managed to even uncover the identity of a single member in a year's time and they were expected to catch the team red-handed within a week? He couldn't be the only one finding gaps in this plan, but looking around, the eyes staring at him lack the disturbance he searches for.

"Besides the fact that it is crucial that you gather enough information to guarantee success, this group will most likely be willing to do anything to protect their stash," the chief continues to add reasons for Austin's worry. "It is vital that your real identities remain secret or your lives will potentially be in danger."

"So we're going undercover?" As soon as the words escape his mouth, Austin realises how juvenile his question sounds, like a little kid playing secret agent with his playdate.

"You work for a travel agency to promote the cruise line. This will give you the opportunity to interview the employees." Even if anyone agreed with his thoughts, any type of mockery doesn't follow. Instead, the chief hands them both a driver's license, a notepad with the fake agency's logo on it, and another thin dossier. Austin takes a look at his license. Andrew Young, that's the name he will have to respond to over the next few days. "Further information can be found in these files. Any questions?" Both the agents stay silent. With a waving gesture, he closes the meeting. "That would be all."

Without saying a word, both agents rise from their seats, still a bit overwhelmed by the importance of the case. Just before Austin exits the room, he's being called.

"Moon." Austin looks over his shoulder, wondering why he was being spoken to still. The chief had put on his reading glasses and was reading through something Austin couldn't see. While keeping his eyes on the paper, he beckons him over. "A moment please."

He couldn't deny he was scared of what was coming. Obviously, whatever he was going to be told, it was directed at him personally, as Lewis was being kept out of it purposely. Maybe he made a stupid mistake in his report, maybe he was going to be scolded for underperforming. Austin takes place in the same chair he had just gotten out of and tries to control his breathing. The chief takes off his reading glasses and leans on his desk with both arms, granting Austin his full attention for the first time that day.

"I hope you realise the significance of this assignment." Austin releases a breath. If it was simply a warning to do his best, he could simply make a promise and walk out again. "I put full trust in your capabilities. I dearly hope you can realise my expectations."

"Of course, sir," Austin politely responds. This wasn't the first time a conversation for this purpose had taken place and he wasn't sure whether his performance was an indication.

The chief sighs, as if he's annoyed that Austin doesn't grasp the point he's trying to make. "I believe your previous cooperation with agent Lewis caused some issues." The tone of his voice indicates a question like he's trying to receive a confirmation. Austin rolls his eyes, wondering whether it was Lewis who told on him.

" I can't help it! He's just not-"

"Austin!" He rarely calls him by his first name, so he knows his patience is running out. Wrinkles on his forehead seem deeper than ever and Austin wonders whether stress that he causes might have contributed to them. He certainly didn't have those when Austin was younger. The chief pinches the bridge of his nose. "I want you to have the best possible guidance and agent Lewis is the most qualified agent I have in service. I expect you to do your best to follow his directions and learn from him, and to be on your best behaviour," he speaks like he does not expect any objections. Austin eyes the man's hair and makes a quick prayer that early receding hairlines don't run in the family. "Did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, dad."

"Very well," Chief Moon nods, finding he obtained the goal he wanted to reach. Austin sincerely wonders whether he would have knocked on his father's door if he had had a real ambition for the future. But the combination of a lack of interest in any profession and the desperate need for money to live on his own had driven him to beg his father for a job. His mother supported his decision, though it caused their contact to fade over these past months. And that's how he ended up in this position. "You may be excused." Austin leaves the room, knowing that his performance on this case would help his father decide whether the time and effort he had spent on him had been a waste.

* * *

The two agents had had merely a few days to pack, to prepare mentally for whatever challenges would await them, and to get used to their alter ego. The knowledge that this team has killed to keep their business safe was still burning in the back of their minds. It only assured them in what kind of life danger they were in, that is, if their identities would not stay hidden. A better motivator to do the job right was far to be found.

"Well, today's the day," Lewis says. After a long flight, the taxi ride had been silent for that past half hour, simply because there was not much to say and because Austin hadn't admitted how agitated he secretly felt. "'re you nervous?" Lewis tries to gauge his mood.

"Why should I be?" Instead of confiding in him, Austin decides to keep his cool. Clearly, it's not the answer Lewis was expecting nor hoping to hear as he mocks his indifferent attitude with a scoff.

"You know this isn't some kid destroying phone booths," he warns him while passing a serious glance. "This is a group of criminals, they live for what they do. We've seen what they're capable of. One wrong move and you might be next."

"Wow, thanks for the pep talk, partner," Austin responds sarcastically, even more dread filling him.

Lewis sighs. "I'm just saying." He pauses for a second, looking for the right words to pass on his message. He avoids his eyes like he's embarrassed about something. "I won't always be by your side at the ship. Just... Don't do anything stupid." Lewis looks out the window to signal the end of their conversation, but Austin's having none of it.

"Worrying about the life of your co-worker all of a sudden, huh?" He snickers.

"Don't get any ideas," Lewis says sharply. "Caring about the son of a friend, that's all." Austin doesn't respond, instead, imagining how his dad might've pressured Lewis to keep him safe. It's a weird thought, as he has never told Austin that he's worried about his safety personally. Having to hear it indirectly from someone else felt odd.

After leading them through a maze of dull-coloured containers, the taxi arrives at the harbour where a handful of big ships are docked. One ship stands out in particular. At the bottom of the stairs that lead inside, a few crew members are rolling out a ruby coloured rug while others are putting up a tent to shield the check-in area from the sun that threatens to break through light grey clouds that seem to hover them everlastingly.

"This is the one, right?" Austin checks, just to be sure.

"What gave it away? The ship's logo or the people waiting for us?" Lewis answers with a mocking smirk. They are just about to exit the taxi, knowing the company arranged payment in advance when the driver turns around in his seat.

"Your boss wanted me to give you this before you enter the ship." Lewis takes a thin briefcase from him that looks surprisingly heavy. "Just some miscellaneous information about your assignment. He forgot to hand it to you before your departure." The man clarifies before turning around again. The two take this as an invite to get out of the car, in which they shrug and do exactly that.

Once they open the doors, the sound of air horns, waves breaking against the rocks, and gusts of wind hit them over the head. Austin takes a few seconds to take in his surroundings. The harbour knows a limited colour palette; the main colour he saw was grey. Even the sky matched the cement and container ships. The only thing that broke the plain canvas was the enormous, white cruise ship that seemed to radiate.

Then, suddenly, something feels off. He doesn't know what exactly, but something makes Austin feel queasy. Beneath the deafening noise that surrounds them, Austin hears something subtle. Something weak, yet very, very alarming. He stops Lewis, who was just about to make his way towards the ship and once he moves closer to the agent, Austin the sound gets louder, more identifiable. It's a series of beeps and once he manages to focus on it, he notices the speed of the beeping accelerating. Austin's eyes drop to the briefcase in Lewis' hand and he realises what caused his uneasy feeling. He knows he must act fast.

Without saying a word, he jerks the bag out of his grip, sprints towards the water, and throws the case in without a second thought. From behind him, he hears Lewis rage at him.

"What the fuck, Austin?" The agent yells while running towards the water like he's planning on saving as much of the case's content as he could. "That could've contained vital-"

An explosion that is suppressed by the water the bomb causes a hollow column of water that rises three feet into the air. The two agents simultaneously stumble backwards, shocked by the sound and the sight. Surface waves move outwards from the centre after attracting the attention of all bystanders. Austin hears Lewis breath heavily next to him and he feels like he owes him an explanation.

"My dad hasn't forgotten anything regarding his job in his life," he says. Lewis takes a few seconds to progress the piece of information before covering his forehead in shame.

"I should've known," he admits his fault. He swallows once before looking Austin in the eyes, reaching out to shake his hand. "Thank you."

"I just noticed the timer coming from the binder," Austin shrugs as he attempts to downplay his move. The shock is playing with his mind and he struggles to know what to say.

"Good to have a young pair of ears nearby," Lewis chuckles as Austin smiles uneasily. They fall silent, looking at the brown suitcase that was now floating peacefully on the surface like it didn't just make an attempt to harm them. Lewis looks at Austin again, a more worrisome look in his eyes. "You know what this means, right?"

Austin knew. It didn't have to be said out loud because it was obvious. Their secret identities hadn't fooled the team for a second. The dealers knew exactly who they were and what they were here for. And they would rather kill than face even the slightest risk of getting caught.

 _The briefcase wasn't meant to kill them._

 _That stunt would go viral and I'd really rather limit the number of so-called undercover agents on my ship, thank you very much._

 _No, that was simply to send a message. I've got enough people to do the dirty work for me._

 _And seven days is more than enough time to release those two in my lovely labyrinth._

 _The only thing I'll have to do is hide in plain sight._

 _Let's see how good of an agent you two really are._

* * *

 **Now, more than ever, your comments would mean the world to me. Y'all know I thrive on justification. Hope you see you again in two weeks when I might've finished the whole story (hopefully). Love**


	2. Chapter 2

**She's BACK! With the first chapter mentioning Ally. Bet you were waiting for that one.**

 **Thanks for reading, everyone who did. Thank you for the reviews, they really did improve my day.**

* * *

It had turned out that the taxi that transported them was sent by the dealers. Somehow, they had intercepted phone calls and hacked their database to give the cab the characteristics Austin and Lewis were told to recognise. The license plate had turned out to be stolen and the water had wiped off any fingerprints on the case, not that there had been any if you could go by the discreetness and infallibility they had shown before. They had no way to trace the car or the driver. It was certain; these people knew what they were doing.

After reporting the incident to the base, they were told to act as if it had not happened. If they were to show any kind of fear or insecurity, the dealers would be able to exercise an indirect power over them. It was very likely they would be speaking to one or more members of the organisation, so by merely showing them that the whole incident had left no impact on them whatsoever, they could hopefully throw them off.

The first staff member they had met was the captain of the ship. Captain Wendell was his name, but he insisted to be called by his first name, Peter. The somewhat chubby, middle-aged man had given them a kind smile and firm handshake before leading them through the ship with the final destination being the control room.

"Your rooms are ready," Peter says as he presents them two key cards. "I´ve asked you to come on board earlier than the passengers to allow you some time to speak with the staff in private." His smile turns slightly gloomy as he lays a hand on one of the control panels. "I really hope you catch these guys. This ship is like my child, the thought that she´s being used to transport these..." He shakes his head to clear the thought out of his mind. "Besides, the news that our cruise is associated with drug travel has caused a lot of bad publicity."

Austin cocks his head. "I reckon it´s not all bad, is it?" He smiles to make the question seem less hostile. If the man was part of the team, any publicity would only be seen as recognition for his work.

Peter shrugs. "Sure, there are some idiots getting a thrill out of being on the same ship as one of the most feared drug dealers currently active." He gives Austin a look like he´s wondering what the purpose of this question was. "I value the safety of my passengers most, though."

"Certainly," Lewis quickly responds, shooting Austin a glance that could only be interpreted in one way. "How well do you know the staff?" He asks.

"We meet weekly and I can contact each and every one of them with a push of the button," the captain answers, showing a little machine that resembles a mobile phone without the screen. "We´re all very close, at least that´s what I thought," Peter sighs. He runs a hand through his thin, ginger hair. "I can´t say I´m a great people reader, but you´d think you know your staff after working with them for a few years."

"Thank you for your assistance." They both shake the captain´s hand after he hands them a document containing all information they need, like staff member´s information and evaluation over the years. "We will contact you if we have any further questions." After the door closes behind him, Lewis shoves Austin. "Way to be subtle there, Moon."

"Shouldn't we handle him like part of the staff? Like a suspect, just like the rest of them?" Austin asks in defence.

"You know we´ve been told to leave him alone," Lewis reminds him of his father's order, his voice lowering as if he´s afraid the captain was still listening. "He offered us his help and he knows our real identity."

"How is that enough reason to remove him from the suspect list? For all we know, he´s using his title to appear innocent! It doesn´t mean he´s got an alibi, does it?"

"Give it a rest, Austin," Lewis firmly closes the discussion as he looks at the time. "Let´s split up for now. Just try to speak with as many people as you can and we meet again tonight."

* * *

Austin had been on one or two cruise ships in his childhood, but walking around a completely empty ship felt odd. Lewis had offered to take the top half of the ship, populated by the broad cleaning staff, a dozen waiters and a handful of casino employees. That had left Austin with mostly technicians and members of the engine department in the bottom half, all as ordinary and unremarkable as the next guy. He had had a hard time finding anything suspicious in their files, too. Something told him that finding this group was going to be harder than he had foreseen.

To make their identities appear more legit, they had been assigned roles. If anyone would ask, Lewis would be responsible for the literate promotion and Austin for the visual aspects. This meant that he was obligated to walk around with a professional looking photo camera hanging around his neck. He had yet to familiarise himself with it in order to fit his role.

Leaving the dark, humid areas behind him, he arrives at the check-in hall. He remembers how he entered the ship a few hours ago and notices how the reception was now staffed. Passengers must be boarding soon. Behind one of the counters, a girl, appearing a few years younger than him, is frantically utilising the computer´s keyboard. Chestnut waves frame her face as she seems not bothered by the stress she appears to be working under, as her cherry painted lips are curved in a smile that looks so natural that it seems like its natural formation.

Austin leans on the desk, observing her for a few seconds before she looks him in the eyes, her lips curving even more. She seems unsurprised by his presence, even when knowing not a single passenger had entered the ship yet. It looks like she hasn´t realised or decided to be unbothered by it.

"How can I help you?" Her polite voice is accompanied by a bubbly undertone that makes him believe she is more than gleeful to see him. Austin knows a customer voice when he hears one and yet, this is something different. Like she has used it so many times that she doesn´t know any better. Her accent is a combination of textbook British with a hint of rusted Dutch as if she's trying to suppress traces of times past. The name tag on her blouse seems recently polished. ´Allison´, it says.

"Hi, I think you might´ve heard of me," Austin speaks, reaching inside the pocket of his shirt for the notebook and pen.

Allison giggles confused. "I´m sorry to tell you, but you don´t exactly look like a celebrity." She points at his camera.

"Oh, no, not like that!" He blushes as he makes an attempt at making the enormous accessory look less prominent, but finds himself struggling as it obviously has nowhere to go. Allison giggles again. Nice going on seeming a professional, Austin. He clears his throat, attempting to save any dignity he has left and shows the girl the logo on his notebook. "I´m writing an article about this cruise ship and everything that revolves around the trip. I was hoping I could ask you some questions."

The receptionist nods. "I´ve been informed about your research." She rolls her chair backwards and extends her arm to knock on the door behind her. "Maybe you could include my colleague. We´re here together most of the time anyway." The door opens and a tall, pale looking man appears. Hair black as the night falls over his forehead in a fringe and round, light blue eyes quickly study him. Nearly crooked teeth form a smile as he offers Austin his hand.

"Phil, at your service." His voice is deep, but Austin hears a slight slip in his words. Every move he makes has a hint of clumsiness, especially evident because of his length, and his face and hands seem well-cared for.

"Nice to meet you," Austin answers his handshake. He has to take a second to remember to use his fake name. "Andrew, Andrew Young."

"Pleasure, Andrew," Allison greets him formally, her big eyes studying him shamelessly. She had crossed her legs and was holding the pulse of her left arm, a posture resembling one a young girl on her first job interview. "You can call me Allison Dawson."

"Or, as I like to call her, Sunny," Phil laughs while pinching her cheek. "'Cause she's just a little ray of sunshine." Allison slaps his hand away with a giggle.

Austin smiles at this seemingly often used nickname before opening his notebook and clicking his pen, opening the interview. "So how long have you been a part of this staff?"

The two look at each other like their eye contact could help them make a better estimation. "Not too long. I reckon it's been almost five years now." Phil responds and Allison nods in confirmation. Austin finds it curious that they have worked on the ship for the same amount of time.

"Did you two meet through your occupation?"

"Actually, we go way back." Austin raises his eyebrows in curiosity. Phil grins as he wraps an arm around Allison's shoulder and messes up her hair by petting the top of her head. "Allison's my little sister." The girl gasps and quickly uses both hands to smoothen down her locks, ashamed of her brother's behaviour.

"I never would've guessed," Austin admits, scribbling down some notes. There were very few features that the two had in common. Where Allison was short and had a round face with smooth curves, Phil was tall and had more sharp-edged characteristics.

Allison shrugs. "We hear that a lot. We're just lucky we like each other enough to spend every day together." She jokingly sticks her tongue out in which her brother pokes her side. "Working with the family makes the job a lot easier."

"But, honestly, the whole staff feels like a big family," Phil adds. Austin stays silent. They obviously had been purposely kept in the dark about the whole drug travelling situation or they were gullible enough to believe it didn't affect the staff relationship. Either way, Austin felt bad for them.

"What makes working here more enjoyable than anywhere else?" He continues to ask.

"The variety," Allison answers after a quick thought. "And the people." She shoots him a quick wink, in which Austin diverts his eyes with a chuckle. "The fact that every day is different. It's refreshing."

"The travelling plays a big role with me," Phil says. "What job allows you to wake up in a different place every day? It's like you get to be a different person every time you set a foot on land."

* * *

It was almost five pm, an hour before he was supposed to meet Lewis, and Austin was in desperate need of some fresh air. So, he decided to find the highest point of the ship to watch it weigh anchor and leave the Dutch coast. Though, it was questionable whether he was going to find any fresh air. The smoke leaving the dozens of container ships was clouding him and he couldn't see where the smoke ended and the rainclouds began. But just above the horizon, a beautiful mix of red and purple was breaking through. He rests his arms on the metal railing as he studies the harbour's skyline. Two long blasts sound and the ship slowly but surely starts to move away from the coast.

"How's the view?" Austin jumps as the voice catches him off guard. Leaning against the doorframe, Allison seems to have been watching him for a while. A smirk has replaced the lively smile and Austin feels slightly uncomfortable as he's not sure how to respond to her change of attitude. "You can be honest, I know it's quite terrible."

"It's not that bad," he simply replies, nodding to the clear sky that seemed to make its way towards them. "Makes up for the air pollution and grey water."

Ally laughs, a genuine laugh. "I agree." They stay silent for a while. Austin feels the girl's eyes on him, but he pretends that he doesn't notice. Adapting to her new persona is taking some effort. "How did the interviews turn out?" She speaks up again.

"Wouldn't know," he says, remembering how Lewis and he had discussed their fake occupation. "My colleague is in charge of those. I'm more about the visual communication." With his index finger, he taps the camera. "Words are truly overrated."

Allison smiles, like his words pleasantly surprised her. "Do you mind if I take a look?" She reaches for the object, but Austin quickly moves it out of her reach. He hadn't taken a single photo yet. It was the only thing he had forgotten. A professional photographer had at least taken some shots of the view.

"There's barely anything on there yet." He tries desperately to make the comment sound believable. Allison's confused look asks for clarification. "I'm saving some space for the good part of the trip." To avoid giving away his lies, he turns on the camera and pretends he's scrolling through his camera roll. Ally chuckles before laying one hand on the object and slowly pushing it down, forcing him to answer her glare.

"I'm part of the trip." It could be an innocent remark, but the way she says it clearly shows the suggestiveness. Austin swallows unconsciously as Allison moves into his personal space. His mind is clouded, he has trouble coming up with a clever response, but Allison doesn't seem to mind as she simply keeps staring at him.

"I'll keep that offer in mind," he eventually manages to stutter and Allison laughs. With a small tug on the camera's neck strap, she brings his face a few inches closer. After letting her eyes roam his lips for a moment, she turns the camera around, the fabric around his neck crossing, and snaps a picture of his, assumingly, stunned expression. She giggles at the screen before letting it land on his chest again. With a wink, she disappears through the door. "Catch you later, hotshot."

* * *

The two agents had agreed to meet in the main lounge, which was also the place where most of the guests had chosen to spend their evening. The atmosphere was buzzing. Some posh, British pleasantries flew across the room like a rhythm of delicacy, but were mercilessly overwhelmed by voices painted with thick, Dutch accents and alcohol, attempting, but failing, to copy the elegant diction. In the background, a band was providing popular music with a twist. The leader singer was now bringing Amy Winehouse's 'Valerie' with a jazzy spin.

"So," Lewis starts as he raises a glass of sparkling water to his lips, "how did it go today?" After ordering their drinks at the crowded bar, they had managed to snatch up two comfortable lounge chairs in the back that were facing the small stage. Both notebooks were lying on the tiny table between them, the content ready to be compared.

"I think I covered quite some ground." Austin is unable to concentrate on the conversation. The feeling that someone is watching him is occupying all his attention. He observes the room, trying to catch the pair of eyes that are looking his way, but he fails to locate them.

"Good. Me, too," Lewis responds, not noticing his lack of focus. "Anything that caught your attention in specific?"

"Not really," he says, still distracted. "You?" He adds in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

"One of the waiters was noticeable. Weird guy," Lewis says, as he goes through his notes. Austin shrugs off the cautious feeling and takes a look at the paper. It was probably nothing. "He tried to act indifferent, but I'm pretty sure my questions were driving him insane," the man continues, opening his laptop. "I did some research on him already and there's something funny about his "

Lewis explains what he has found, but, no matter the importance, the information doesn't go through. He has located the cause of his uncomfortable feeling and, ironically, he had been staring right at it all along. The lead singer of the small band, consisting of a drummer, a guitar player, and said singer, was not unfamiliar. The same dark brown eyes that had been eyeing him up just an hour ago were staring at him like they wanted something from him.

Allison Dawson, the receptionist that had shown to have two sides to her, had finished the final few lines of 'Valerie' and was now singing the distinctive 'Oh, Yeah, Yeah's' that introduced 'Locked Out of Heaven'. Guided by the band's own way of slowing down the songs slightly, Allison draw's every 'Uh' out while keeping her eyes locked in his and Austin wonders how many more sounds and words she can successfully make sound shamelessly suggestive. Surprisingly, he finds her brother on the guitar next to her. The drummer looks unfamiliar.

"Wait," Lewis disrupts Austin's train of thoughts. He quickly turns his head, ready to be scolded at for not listening, but, surprisingly, Lewis is looking in the same direction. His eyebrows are furrowed like he's trying to make out a detail in the distance. He touches Austin's shoulder in a hurried gesture before pointing at the stage. "I think that's him."

Since he knew the other two members of the band, the only person Lewis could be referring to was the drummer. Dark eyebrows were shielding his eyes showing a focused expression and his lips were pulled in a straight line. His white blouse was soaked and the sweat made the fabric sheer, showing his arm muscles clearly. Many female audience members were trying to capture his attention, but he seemed unbothered by it. He didn't seem like a person to interact with the audience if he'd ever smile at all. Something about this guy made Austin feel uneasy.

If Lewis was right about him, which was a solid chance, they had made amazing progress on their first day. But it also meant two other things; Allison would be of more importance for him than he initially thought and she could be in serious danger.

* * *

 _That agent could learn a thing or two about making his questions less see through. I snicker. Travel writer, my ass. Even if I hadn't known his real intentions before the man had even heard about his assignment himself, literally every oblivious idiot could tell he wasn't a travel writer._

 _He's getting too close to my liking... But I've been thinking._

 _The only thing I must do is present them to someone with a better motive, someone who can take the blame for everything, on a little silver platter. A new idea forms in my mind._

 _Like bees to honey, their tiny brains won't be able to resist. And I'll have all the freedom I need to make this transfer go flawlessly._

 _After all, who could know that this organisation is bigger and more complicated than they have apprehended?_

* * *

 **See you guys next week xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

Austin quickly briefed Lewis of his acquaintance with the other two band members. The newly acquired knowledge that the two were connected with Lewis' current main suspect put the siblings in a whole different light. One thing was certain; they were going to have to prioritise gain more inside information on the band and the only way to do that was to approach them directly. They just had to make sure not to raise any suspicion.

"I think it might best to have you go in alone," Lewis proposes, keeping an eye on the performance while finishing his drink. "Try to find your way into their dressing room for a few more questions."

"Alone?" The reminder that he would soon be in a room with a potential killer, lacking witnesses to protect him in any way is implied in his objection.

"What did you think would happen, Austin? I'm not here to hold your hand this whole week," he scoffs and Austin involuntarily cowers in shame. He was right, though he hadn't expected to be left on his own so soon. The music stops and Allison thanks the audience for its attention, receiving a mediocre applause in return. Once she steps off the stage, she looks for Austin in the crowd. This is enough indication for Lewis to predict her next move. "Go to the bar. She'll be there soon," he mutters behind his hand and makes a shoo gesture that's not quite as subtle.

Austin doesn't question his direction and quickly gets up from his chair. While approaching an empty spot at the bar, he glances over his shoulder to spot the brunette. Soon enough, he sees her make her way over to where he's seated, her flowy, red dress dancing around her thighs. He makes an effort to look surprised when he feels her tapping his shoulder.

"What are the odds, it's hotshot!" She cocks her head, giving him a playful smile. "Did you enjoy the performance?"

"It sure was a surprise to see you up there." He still wasn't sure whether to take her flirtatious questions seriously, so he avoids answering them altogether cleverly. He gestures to the stool next to him and she takes place. Shrugging lightly, she greets the bartender as he hands her a Margarita in a cocktail glass, paired with a lime and salt on the rim. Her usual, Austin presumes.

"Budget cuts," she admits, sipping the liquid before licking the corners of her lips to capture all the salt. "I'm cheap labour, you see. I initially applied for band singer, receptionist was just an additional function."

"I see," Austin nods and he sees his shot. "Do you think I could interview the whole band? It's interesting how you all have multiple positions."

"Sure, come with me." Allison downs her drink before letting herself slide off her stool. When Austin catches her eyes again, he's surprised at the sight. Her flirty attitude is gone and the gleeful receptionist he had met is standing in front of him. With a wide smile, she puts her hands on her hips and happily asks him, "You coming?"

As he follows her closely, he feels Lewis study them intensively as they enter a room next to the stage, like he believes that if he tries hard enough, he can look straight through the door they have disappeared behind. Inside the room, he finds the two other band members, already changed out of their performing outfit. The walls are packed with a few racks of clothes, mirrors and three small vanities. On closer inspection, he notices no sign of makeup on the tables, just brushes, cans of hairspray and a few perfume bottles. The two men look up when they enter, their reactions differing like day and night.

"Andrew! What's up?" Phil approaches the two immediately, giving Austin a friendly handshake, hooking their thumbs. Austin has to remind himself of his fake name and quickly wipes the confusion off his face, greeting him back. Keith stays frozen in his place, seemingly unbothered to introduce him to the stranger. His expression stays neutral, as continues whatever he's doing to avoid meeting Austin's eyes. "I saw you in the audience. Did you come for more?" Phil jokes while screwing the cap off a water bottle.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could bother you for a few more minutes," he responds, holding up his notepad as a silent indicator. Turning his attention to Keith, he hopes to include him in his request, but it doesn't seem to be working. Phil, however, seems to be excited to tell more about his life on the ship.

"Absolutely!" He says before leading him to the little corner with a sofa and some chairs where Keith is folding some clothes. Austin is about to introduce himself, ensuring he will join the interview when the man backs away from him.

"Excuse me," he mutters, grabbing a package of cigarettes off the coffee table and leaving through a door that leads outside, letting it slam shut. There is a short silence where no one quite knows what to say. Allison is the first one to speak.

"Keith is quite fond of his privacy," she attempts to excuse his rude behaviour and Austin nods, not knowing how to respond. Allison looks at the glass door like she's considering her options as another awkward silence arises. She sighs, finally, and tiredly gestures towards the door. "I'll go after him."

Once she has left, Phil shoots Austin an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that." He shrugs, gesturing to himself. "I guess it's all me now, hope that's alright."

"It's fine," Austin smiles. The two take a seat on the sofa as Austin opens his notepad. "So, has working on a cruise ship always been a dream of you?"

"Actually, not really. It just, kind of, crossed my path, you know?" Phil says before staring off into the distance, absently. Austin is about to move on to the next question when Phil speaks again. "Can I let you in on a secret?" Austin nods eagerly, gullibly curious whether he was about to receive some inside information that would help the case. Phil releases a sigh, but not a sigh of exhaustion, rather of relief, as if he's been keeping the secret hidden for too long. "I'm thinking about quitting."

Austin raises his eyebrows. "I thought you loved your job." Everything about the way the man behaves shows he enjoys every minute of being on the ship. The agent had automatically compared these ways to those of his sister but found that they were not quite the same. Phil seemed even more genuine.

"I do," Phil assures him. "It just doesn't allow me to be home as often as I'd like to be. I considered this ship to be my home," Phil speaks as if he's in deep thought, twisting a gold ring on his ring finger that Austin hadn't noticed before. "That was until I proposed to my boyfriend. Every week, I'm counting down the days until the Sunday I can spend with him."

"That's great, congratulations!" Austin swoons at his sweet story, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Thanks," Phil smiles shyly. His smile fades, his face painted with worry. "I haven't told Allison yet."

"I'm sure she'll understand." He isn't sure. At this point, he's not sure about anything Allison will do or think. The way she behaves around him leaves him reaching in the dark.

"I guess you're right." It surprises him that Phil agrees. Apparently, he had never seen her sudden mood switches. "It's just that we've done everything together since we were little. The news that I'm moving on with her life might hurt her badly."

"Why would you think that?" He didn't know Phil's age, but small lines around his eyes and on his forehead caused by laughter, worrying, or maybe both, frame his face like a well-aged painting. If he had to guess, he'd say he's in his late thirties, maybe even early forties. The age gap between him and Allison, whose occasional manners showed her naivete and he wouldn't estimate her older than twenty-two, was remarkable. Since Phil had told him he'd only been working on the ship for a few years, he wonders what he'd done before that and whether he was going to found out at all.

Phil chuckles, not making fun of his question; it rather sounds kind of gloomy. "I'm not sure whether you noticed, but Allison isn't very independent. I worry about her sometimes." He looks around the room powerlessly. "Her whole life is on this cruise ship. I'm not certain if she will survive my resignation. She needs someone to lean on." He chuckles again, shaking his head. "I'm sorry for throwing that on you like that. My fiancé always tells me I talk too much."

Austin copies his chuckle. "It's not a problem. For what it's worth, I'd be happy to look after her when you're not around this weekend." He cuts himself off when he realises how it sounds, worried he just activated the protective brother in Phil. "If that's okay with you, of course."

Phil laughs in return. "Thanks, Andrew. I appreciate that." Austin takes a deep breath, happy to know he gained has Phil's trust. A small part of him feels guilty for lying to him about, well, everything, basically but he stuffs it away without a second thought. Phil gets up after giving him another handshake. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should call my husband-to-be. I always talk to him before bed during my daily walk around the ship. Keeps my head clear."

"No problem, I'll talk to you later," Austin says before his eye falls on a particularly stunning object. "Hey, that's a nice guitar."

"Do you play?" Phil says while putting on a jean jacket.

"I used to." He walks over to the shiny, black guitar, memories of teenage bands flooding back.

"You can try, if you want," Phil says, his hand already on the door handle. "I recognise a guitar player with itchy fingers when I see one," he nods at him as he leaves. "Have a nice evening, Andrew."

He lets his fingertips stroke the strings, the texture feeling oh-so-familiar on his skin. Without a specific song or melody in mind, he starts strumming, nodding his head on the beat he made up himself. He bites his lip with a grin, glad the numerous years of abandoning the instrument hadn't rusted his skills even a little bit. His fingers come to an abrupt stop when the walls of the dressing room fail to shut out a loud voice coming from outside. When moving his body to look through the glass door, he sees Allison standing by Keith's side, obviously distressed.

Needlessly, he attempts to silence his movements as he approaches the door without drawing attention to himself. Hiding his body, he leans against the doorframe in order to pick up on the conversation. Looking around the corner, he manages to catch sight of the duo. A black spot on Keith's neck, just below his hairline, catches his attention. He reckons it must be part of a tattoo, but he can't quite make out what it's supposed to be from this distance.

"Jesus, Keith, why are you like this?" Allison makes wild arm movements, digging her fingers into her hair. Keith, in comparison, leans on the railing in a complete unbothered posture. With a lazy motion, he takes a final drag of his cigarette before shooting it over the railing with a small arch. After getting the clear message he won't be giving Allison an answer, she changes her approach. She moves closer and lays a hand on Keith's cheek. Austin sees her lips move, but he can't quite make out the words.

Keith moves his head towards her, showing the first sign he's listening to her, and stares at her lips, a tired expression showing in his eyes. Are the two a couple? She hadn't said, but then again, she hadn't had any reason to. Whatever Allison said, it doesn't help the situation as, suddenly, Keith snaps and shoves Allison away. He has turned away before he can even see where he had sent her body off to. Merciless, her body slams against the white walls that surround the deck, her head hanging down weakly after receiving no resilience from the hard surface.

Austin has to use every strength in his body not to push the door open. Instead, he hides from sight and prays Keith won't enter the dressing room. After a few seconds, he feels like it's safe to throw another glance outside and sees that Keith is gone. Allison hadn't moved from her place, her body looking lifeless and hair hiding her face. Austin's hand hovers over the handle, ready to do anything to help her when he looks up and their eyes meet.

Her eyes, her face, her posture scream for him and, yet, she wipes her tears, turns her head and disappears from his view before he can react. He releases a breath, feeling tension that had been holding his body captive for the past minutes fade away. The knowledge that he is alone in a place he's not supposed to be washes over him and the silence frightens him slightly. A loud ringtone makes him jump and look around for the second person in the room with him until he comes to the realisation that the sound is coming from the pocket of his jeans.

"Austin Moon," he answers, too many nerves raging through his body to remember to check the number.

"Austin." He hardly recognises the voice for a single reason. His father's voice has lacked any hint of concern for as long as he could remember, but worry is now written all over it.

"Hi, dad," he responds, confusion now obvious in his own words. Before the voice on the other line has time to correct him, he does it himself. "I mean, Sir."

"Move to a secluded location," his father speaks and he does. Within a minute, he arrives in his own room, the number of possible eavesdrops reduced to an absolute zero. Once he confirms the completion of the order, the man commands, "Report your progress."

"As a biased source, I cannot give you the guarantee that Captain Wendell is uninvolved." Austin succeeds in forgetting the recently passed situation as he feels himself move into his agent persona again. All of a sudden, he doesn't find Allison's frequent behavioural switches so odd anymore.

"I recommend you attempt to collect as much information as you need to rule him out a suspect without raising suspicion." The concern he has picked up on earlier seemed to have vanished as quickly as it came. "Anything else?"

"There are some leads, but I believe agent Lewis and I haven't looked into them thoroughly enough to present you a sufficient report." Austin opens the top drawer of his dresser to check whether his gun is still where he left it. Though he's only used it during his training, he was told to bring it with him on this case, even though it's worthless. He doesn't have the legal authority to use it or even to perform an arrest. Knowing it would calm his dad's nerves, he brought it anyway.

"Understood." Chief Moon stays silent after this like he's expecting his son to speak next. But, then, he speaks up. "Are you alright?"

"What?" The question surprises him so much he forgets the etiquettes that are expected from him for a second. "I mean, yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"I heard about the explosion." That explains his unusual tone. He may be his boss, but he's his father above all and Austin was in serious danger. He must've been worried sick about him, even though Austin has trouble imagining that happening. "And that you were the one who took action. I'm glad your clever thinking saved you both."

"Thanks," Austin says, lost for words.

"Just," he starts, words coming out with a stutter like he has trouble pronouncing them, "be careful, okay?" He clears his throat, trying to cover up his vulnerability with an excessive sign of masculinity. "Can't lose my two best agents."

"Sure, I will," Austin promises, biting his lip. "I'll call you tomorrow for an update."

"Perfect," the Chief approves formally. "Goodnight."

After hanging up, he lets himself fall back against the door and takes a deep breath as if he just finished a marathon. After reviewing the day in his head, he's not even sure what messed him up the most. He just knows one thing; if today is anything to go by, he's not sure whether he will even survive the rest of the week.

* * *

"We've read through his file," Lewis says, looking at the iPad screen that displays their boss. With the help of a live chat, they could inform him of their progress, in specific their research on Keith. "Apart from the file being a lot less detailed than those of the other staff, after doing a background check we hit a dead end."

"Dead end?" Chief Moon furrows his eyebrows, asking for clarification.

"It goes back about five years. Before 2012," Lewis shakes his head and moves his hands horizontally over each other, "There's nothing. And his short record is clean. Like, _real_ clean. Ridiculously clean. There's nothing we can catch him on."

"So, using his records is pointless," the man summarises. "Is there anyone who might be able to provide you information about him? Someone who works closely with him?"

Lewis stays silent, his lack of information on his contacts unable to answer the question. That's when it hits Austin. "He has a girlfriend," he says after his eureka moment, "on the ship. At least, I'm quite sure."

The Chief nods, thinking about the option presented. "That could work."

In contrast, Lewis gives Austin a doubtful look. "That Allison girl? She seems incredibly oblivious. Besides, you told me how unpredictable she is. Do you honestly think she could help us in any way?"

"It's worth investigating," their boss shuts Lewis up sternly. The two agents nod, their plan spread out for them. "But stay alert. For all we know she has a hand in it, too."

"Copy," Lewis says obediently. Austin can tell how ridiculous he finds that possibility, but, cleverly, he doesn't question his boss' orders. The connection is cut soon after and the two agents turn to each other.

"She seems to trust you already," Lewis lays out the proposal of handing him the assignment. "Can you handle it?"

"I'm not an intern anymore, Lewis." It was clear to Austin that he was expected to be independent and professional, and he was desperately trying to live up to that. Lewis smirks surprised.

"I know I haven't told you yet, but you're doing really well. The way you've managed to build trust with the band within a day, it's quite exceptional." Austin's head snaps up. Lewis had never complimented him before, but he's always been honest with him, which makes the compliment even more genuine. Lewis chuckles at his bewildered expression. "You can call me by my first name, by the way. I think we've reached that stage." Austin stays silent, unwillingly spoiling his secret. Lewis' smile falls and disbelief takes its place. "Walter. It's Walter."

"I knew that," Austin claims, showing fake indignation and arrogance. He didn't.

Walter just laughs, not fooled for one second. "I'll focus on the rest of the crew. Keith doesn't work alone." He stands up, ready for another day of undercover research. "He probably isn't even the leader. If I can find the others involved, it'll bring us closer to the core."

* * *

 _They're getting a bit too close to my liking. Creating a false bait might not be enough._

 _I need a distraction._

 _Good enough to occupy the mind of at least one of them. The one who is easiest to mislead. A team is just as strong as its weakest member, after all._

 _And if there's one thing a boy with a weak mind craves, it's the mere idea of being able to save a weak girl._

I throw my cigarette over the railing, watching the waves take it under, and grab my phone. With a single tap, I call my speed dial contact.

"Allison, I need to speak with you."

* * *

 **Once again, thanks for reading! A little note; as this is a mystery novel, it's quite crucial that you soak up as much information as you can from the chapters in order to understand everything. Just a little hint**

 **I wish you all the happiest of holidays and if you're not celebrating, treat yourself to a cookie.**

Royal Ditsy

Loving it  
Stupid question  
Does Auslly happen? **\- Thank you! Not stupid at all, but since this is a romantic mystery novel revolved around Auslly, you can be certain it'll happen**

Grammar Nazi

You've been spelling "Organization" wrong. (It's a 'Z', not an 'S') **\- Good evening, Grammar Nazi. To correct you, I haven't been spelling "Organization" wrong. I write my stories in British English since the world doesn't revolve around the US according to me. I respect your warning. Though, if I may speak for all fanfiction writers, I think it would be great if you could devote your time to other things apart from correcting people's spelling. I like the thought of helping someone improve their stories, but receiving a review with _just_ criticism is just a bit... Lame. I know you must mean well, but just consider maybe changing your name (which is way overdue to be an extinct, problematic term) and using your time to leave a bit of love at the bottom of stories instead. It's just a thought. Have a nice day.**


	4. Chapter 4

***Sorry for the mixup!***

 **Wow, I hadn't realized I'd be uploading on New Years, aka my birthday. Huh. That's new. I could've skipped this week, but it's kind of a special occasion. Besides, this is a rad chapter if you'd ask me.**

* * *

Austin had made the lounge his main base, since it granted him enough space to create a strategic plan on his laptop, while, at the same time, also giving him an excellent view of his main suspect. During the day, Keith spent his time tending the bar and waiting tables in the adjacent restaurant. And, at five pm sharp, the band rehearsed for their evening show.

While Walter was busy doing research on the other employees, desperately trying to find a connection between Keith and the organisation, Austin stayed in his corner of the lounge, sipping on non-alcoholic beverages. In contrast to the first day, today could be described as pleasantly ordinary. Maybe a little too much. Austin won't complain, though he feels like danger is always around the corner on the ship. He can't help but study his surroundings every few minutes. The lounge was starting to flood with tourists whose stomachs were stuffed with different edible cultures.

Hey, hotshot." Allison appears in front of him out of nowhere and leans forward by placing her palms on the table. With a single key, Austin opens up a photo editor program to hide his observation notes on Keith. Not that she could see the screen anyway, she's facing the back of the laptop and makes no effort to sneak a peek. "Got any plans tonight?"

Austin slowly closes his laptop, intrigued by this proposal. Whatever she had in mind, it would give him a great opportunity to collect some inside information on Keith from Allison. He knew he had to play this right, though, as a response too eager might make her suspicious or give her the wrong idea.

"Phil can't play tonight's show. Troubles at the home front," she rolls her eyes but adds an easy smile. She nods at the other side of the lounge, where Phil paces back and forth, one hand running through his hair in a stressed motion. Austin furrows his brow for a second, wondering whether the struggle he told him about the night before contributed to the tension between his fiancé and him. When he turns back to Allison, she's not where he left her. Instead, she's taken a seat next to him as she's batting her eyelashes, hoping this act will make her offer more appealing.

"We're in desperate need of a guitar player." Impersonating two legs with her index and middle finger, she lets them walk up against his arm with big jumps before tapping his nose. "And I remembered I heard you play last night."

"You heard that?" Both of them seem to ignore the event that took place that same moment outside the dressing room. Allison's face lacks any indication that she feels ashamed Austin had seen what happened with Keith. Austin had a hard time comprehending that the girl that had resembled a puppet with its strings cut and the confident looking woman currently flirting with him were the same person.

"Sounded a bit rusty, but that's basically the name of our band." She flashes another million-dollar smile. "Are you in?"

"If it would help you out." He hears it himself say it before he has time to consider. Was this a clever decision? Sure, he'd get to spend some time with both Allison and Keith, their current main suspects, but he'd be _performing_. What would Walter think? He'd surely be in the audience. And his dad? This is absolutely not the kind of behaviour he had discussed with him. He'll disappoint him.

Before he has time to second-guess his decision, Allison throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're my saviour." As some kind of automatism, his hands land on her back. Almost, he forgets about his doubt. Almost.

* * *

"Andrew, thanks for saving the night," Keith had greeted him with a bland smile and a weak handshake, though Austin had no recollection of ever telling him his name. Allison stays by his side, almost like she wants to make him feel more comfortable in case he'd decide to make a run for it. He gets right to business as if he doesn't feel like getting to know Austin a bit better is worth his time. "How familiar are you with Breakfast at Tiffany's?"

"The novel or the film?" You could call his knowledge of either above average, as he's written a thirty-page pager on the comparison between the two in high school, which created a short, yet strong obsession with the story and the characters. Keith's face couldn't possibly display more stun and judgement as his mouth falls slightly open.

"The song," he reminds him, a mercilessly aloof tone in his voice.

"Of course," Austin coughs shamefully. Keith hands him two pages of sheet music with lyrics as Allison giggles behind her hand. He studies them for a second. "If you give me fifteen minutes, I'll be ready."

"We go on in five. You know how Phil is with tardiness," Keith says, his face once again expressionless. As if the conversation is over, he turns around and finally grants Austin a clear sight of the back of his head. A black and grey tattoo of a spider web covers the nape of his neck, one-half visible and the other disappearing into his hair. He wonders whether there is some kind of meaning attached to it. Making an uncaring hand gesture, he shoos the two away. "Practice with him."

Allison's smile is wiped away instantly as she nods curtly. "Yes, Keith." Without another word, she grabs hold of Austin's sleeve and pulls him out the room.

* * *

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the Golden lounge," Allison speaks into the microphone and waits for the few faint cheers to die down. "We're honoured to bring you tonight's entertainment and wish you a pleasant evening. We're gonna start off with "Breakfast at Tiffany's"."

Allison looks over her shoulder to give Keith a starting sign before shooting Austin an encouraging wink. He takes a deep breath and moves his fingers against the strings after he hears two drumsticks counting up from one to four. Allison's hips start swaying on the semi-slow rhythm. For a change, they had decided not to change the song up.

"You'll say, we've got nothing in common. No common ground to start from. And we're falling apart," she sings, clutching the microphone with both hands. "You say, the world has come between us. Our lives have come between us. Still, I know you just don't care." As the pace picks up, she glances at Austin, nodding as a reminder of his line coming up. He licks his lips nervously. It's just a song, it's not a big deal. But, at the same time, it is. He tries to scan the audience, looking for Walter sitting in his usual spot, but the lights blind him.

"And I said, 'What about Breakfast at Tiffany's?'," he sings, keeping his eyes interlocked with Allison's, as if the conversation in the song is happening, right here on stage. He's surprised at the decency of his voice and he can tell Allison is, too.

"She said, 'I think I remember the film.'." The dozen bracelets around her pulse sparkle and jingle as she touches her temple and raises her head slightly, acting out the lyrics. As the jewellery moves, in a flash, he finds a few faint red bruises on her wrist that were usually hidden. They disappear as her arm drops back down. "'And, as I recall, I think we both kinda liked it.'"

"And I said, 'Well, that's one thing we've got.'." Austin bites his lip as he grins, moving his fingers to keep up with the music. His nerves had faded and he's starting to enjoy the performance. His glee is contagious as Allison laughs, shaking her head to the beat so that her hair moves around joyfully. The audience seems to notice the difference in atmosphere from the night before as the people Austin can vaguely make out are moving in their seats.

* * *

The performance had made an impression on, not only the audience but also Allison and himself. Keith had remained expressionless and silent, as always. The three had moved to the bar, where Keith had served them and the guests until they were the only ones left sitting there, sipping fruity cocktails and strong shots. Alcohol was already clouding Austin's perception and slurring his words, though he liked to believe that this evening could result in an inside observation like he had not experienced before. Allison seemed to handle her liquor better, her words lacking any hint of slur.

Keith had watched the two from the corner of his eye as he served the guests. Even if he had seen Allison seemingly moving closer to Austin with every martini she was served, he didn't show any sign of being bothered by it. On the contrary, the second Allison let the final drop of liquor touch her tongue, a freshly made cocktail was presented without so much as a glance.

Once the clock stroke three, guests started leaving until the lounge was completely deserted. Keith empties the cash register and wipes down the bar.

"I'm going to bed. You can take whatever you need off the shelves." He gestures to the supply. "Don't stay out too late, Allison."

He ignores Austin as if he doesn't care whether he will even make it to his room at all. Allison and Keith share a look, a look that's longer than an ordinary glance, though you wouldn't notice if you hadn't paid enough attention. It carried a message, but Austin had trouble reading it. Even without the alcohol in his blood, he wasn't sure if he'd been able to decipher the cryptic statement. Austin decides that, obviously, the reason for the exchange must be Keith's distrust in the two in the presence of enough alcohol to cause a whole lot of bad decisions.

"So," Allison says once Keith has left the lounge, completely ignoring the past few minutes, driving at their performance, "that was quite something, wasn't it?"

"It felt amazing, honestly," he laughs, circling the golden beer by moving his glass mindlessly. "I hadn't played for an audience in years."

"You did well," she agrees, giggling. "Phil should hold tightly onto his job." Austin's grin falls. It's clear that the girl is totally clueless about Phil's situation. It feels crude to keep lying to her and keep a secret that could make her unhappy, so he changes the subject.

"No offence, but I like what I do." Looking down, he finds the camera still around his neck. He had worn it so often, it had seemed to become a part of him.

"I bet you do," Allison nods, looking at him curiously. "How's that, anyway? Being a travel writer."

"I see a lot of places, meet a lot of people." Luckily, his tipsy state had not influenced his ability to make up lies on the spot. The lies pile up and he wonders if she will ever find out how untruthful he has been to her. She doesn't look like she's going to be seeing through them anytime soon. "What about you? You must know the east coast of England like the back of your hand."

"Hate to disappoint you on that one." She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear shyly. "I haven't set foot on land in months."

"What?" His jaw drops. If she didn't take this job to visit a bunch of beautiful places, then what was the point? "Why?"

She shrugs like it's not a big deal. "Haven't felt the urge, I guess. Everything I need is on this ship." Making an arm movement, she gestures to the abandoned lounge, completely disproving her point. Sensing like she might mean Phil makes him feel horrible.

"If I'm totally honest, isn't this job a bit dull?" Allison smiles at his attempt at not sounding rude.

"It's safe," she responds. "The unknown isn't as great as everyone claims. I'd like for things to stay the same." If she's trying to make him feel sorry for her, she's doing a damn good job. If Austin wasn't convinced that Phil's resign would mess her up, he was now. From what he's hearing, she wants nothing more than to stay on the ship with Phil, for as long as possible.

"It can't be healthy to stay in the same place for such a long time," he tries to change her mind, though something tells him she's not budging easily on this. "You're missing out on all these amazing experiences."

She snickers while rolling her eyes. "You sound just like my brother."

"Well, maybe he's right." Allison's eyes snap up to his, for the first time lacking a happy sparkle. "Step out of your comfort zone. Change things up a bit. Take risks once in a while."

"I don't do risks," she says decisively. "I work on a cruise ship as the only entertainment option. The only risk that exists in my life is the chance that someone younger, prettier and with more talent comes along." Her attempt to justify her opinion falls flat as it simply makes it sound a bit sad. "Which I doubt because who would want to live on a ship with a crowd that is forced to listen to you?" She chuckles gloomily. "That's exactly the amount of risk I am willing to take."

"I take risks every day, you can't get what you want without bravery." Austin purses his lips right as the sentence escapes his lips. His alternate persona had slipped away for a second, figuring a travel writer is not exactly a job you could describe as 'risky'. As much as he hoped Allison wouldn't pick up on it, she did.

"You take risks as a photographer?"

"Sure," he nods, trying to create details to make himself more believable out of thin air. "Sometimes, at least. I do nature photography, too." He releases a breath of relief when he sees her eyebrows rise as a sign of conviction. "Anyway, haven't you ever felt the need to explore? Do something stupid for once?" He's out of line, he knows it. She could lash out at him. She doesn't.

"The only thing bravery gets you is trouble." She traces the rim of her glass, keeping her eyes focused on the last few drops in her glass like they represented the line between walking away and doing something she shouldn't. "Besides," she scoffs, "unlike Phil, I don't feel the need to commit to anything other than a job."

It sounds harsh, but she doesn't take it back. Allison disappears behind the bar to fix herself a new drink. It hits Austin, then. If she doesn't commit, then what's the deal with her and Keith? More importantly, does he dare to ask?

"So," he starts, drawing out the single syllable which draws Allison's attention. She awaits the continuation with her head tilt. "What you and Keith have..."

"Purely physical." Unbothered by the invasive question, she takes her bottom lip between her teeth and lets it snap back, as she focusses solely on pouring the exact amount of tequila like it is all that matters right now. Austin releases a noise that can only be described as amazement and a bit of hidden surprise. She picks up on it, leaning on the bar while cracking a half smile. "That's an impressive amount of judgement you just cramped into one sound."

Austin ducks his head in shame, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry, you just seemed like a girl that was ready to meet her prince charming and live happily ever after." He can't believe he was so wrong about her. She really did put out mixed signals.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but life isn't that exciting." Shaking her cocktail, she avoids Autin's priming eyes. "So, spare yourself the effort and don't wait up for your Juliet. It's better to have fun while you still can." She winks, taking a big sip right from the shaker and, just like that, she's the same daring girl he knows. Austin isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, but he can't stand it anymore. The changes are messing with his head and he's had enough.

"So, what I'm hearing, and be sure to correct me if I'm wrong," he says, holding up a finger, his amused expression long gone, "this girl who is so terrified of finding real love in the _real_ world, that she locks herself up and desperately says anything to make herself sound interesting enough to gain a pity look from a passer-by."

Allison's jaw has dropped and her eyes are narrowed. The sound of metal hitting wood echoes through the lounge as she slams the shaker down on the bar. She leans forward to make her face inch closer to Austin's.

"I'm more than you will ever know. Don't you dare make me sound so trivial because you have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

"Get over yourself, Allison," Austin spits, unimpressed by her objection. As a sign that he's not moved by her defensive attitude, he moves closer, too. "You try desperately to make me believe you're so mysterious while you're actually crystal _fucking_ clear."

Allison smirks, biting her lip once more. "Is that so?"

* * *

After a few failed attempts, the door opens. Austin throws his keycard on the ground, much more occupied with the hands that are exploring his upper body, desperate for some piece of skin they haven't touched yet. Attached by the lips and a lot of other body parts, the two enter the room hurriedly. Once the door slams closed, Allison leans her back against it, pulling Austin tightly against her. Like he reads her mind, he reaches for the zipper on her dress. Once he manages to slip it off her shoulders, he notices she has already unbuttoned his shirt with impressive handiness.

His white shirt quickly falls to the floor and Allison lets her arms rest on his shoulders, picking up her priority of moving her lips against his again. Austin's hands find the door as a stable point, as he has to lean down a reasonable amount, now that Allison's heels have been abandoned on the floor. Pressing his body against hers, he hears her sigh as she leans back.

In a moment of inattention, Allison takes control as she pushes him off her. Walking slowly, she forces him to step back until he falls down on his bed. Moving her hands to her back, she undoes the clasp of her soft pink bra. Letting the fabric fall on the floor, studies him knowingly as a smile plays on her lips.

"Risky enough for you yet, hotshot?"

* * *

 _Well._

 _That went exactly as planned._

I look at the two, facing each other as they sleep soundly. I scoff.

 _She faithfully stuck to the role I wrote for her._

 _This little adventure should keep mister detective satisfied for a while._

 _That is if he manages to read more into it than it is. He will chase as she will retract._

The room is a mess. Clothes are scattered on the floor and I can almost picture last night's scene. I sniff in disgust.

 _As long as she sticks to the formula, everything should go fine until I leave this ship and never return._

 _Let's hope she remembers what to do next._

I snicker just before I let the door slam shut behind me.

* * *

 **January 1st will be a Monday. A fresh week, a fresh month, a fresh year. If you want to start over, do it. There's no possible better moment for it. For everyone who needs it, I wish you an amazing change in your life and I cannot wait to see how you turn your life around and amaze the rest of the world. Happy New Years.**

L awesome 18

I absolutely love it so far! Your a great author. But I have a question. Do they call Ally, Allison throughout the whole story? **\- You're lovely, thank you! Great question. Yes. I understand it might seem annoying or different from what you're used to, but it makes sense, I promise. You'll understand eventually.**


	5. Chapter 5

A loud bang wakes up Austin. Looking around for the cause, he fails to spot an object that could have fallen over. What he does notice is Allison next to him, completely unbothered by the sound. Her shoulders rise and fall with each breath she takes, letting him know she won't be waking up anytime soon. Moving the covers with the least amount of friction possible, he slips from underneath them and starts a quest for his clothes. Once he's managed to locate some pants and buttons them shut, a familiar tone sounds from his bedside table. Before it can wake Allison, snatches it away and answers it while exiting the room silently.

"Austin?" A voice checks. He hadn't checked the caller id and he finds himself struggling to recognise the voice. A distant booming in his head that reminds him of the numerous alcoholic beverages he'd downed last night doesn't help. "Where are you? Aren't you up yet?"

Austin scratches his head, looking around for something that could tell him the time. When he finds no clock in the hallway, he removes the phone from his ear to discover it's already eleven AM. Just below the numbers, he discovers who he's talking to. Obviously, it's Walter.

"Yeah, no, I just woke up," he replies, his voice sounding as weary as he feels. Clearing his throat, he tries to divert the attention from himself. "What's up? You sound stressed."

"Stressed?" Apparently, it was not the right thing to say. "I've been trying to reach you since last night! Have you forgotten there are people on this ship who want us dead?" He sounds worried and he has every right to be. It gets through to Austin that he had not shown any sign of life for almost fifteen hours.

"I'm sorry," he says and he hears Walter sigh on the other end of the line. He adds a little white lie, just to save himself from a lecture when he's unable to think clearly. "I've been busy trying to get Keith alone."

"Right." It's clear he's not buying his story, though he doesn't speak his suspicion. "How did that go?"

"Well-"

"On second thought, save it. Chief asked for an update. Meet me in my room in thirty." A sequence of short beeps lets him know Walter has hung up on him. Austin runs a hand through his hair as he realises now's the time to face Allison, as he can't just leave her in his bed. He's not even sure what he should say. Does he awkwardly work her out of his room and avoid her the rest of the week? He couldn't possibly, she's of too much significance in their research. Do they talk about what happened? Would she be willing to? For all he knows, it's just any other night for her. The thought stings.

Once he opens his door, he finds that his dilemma is futile as the sight is nothing he could have prepared himself for. Allison is standing next to his dresser, wearing her last night's dress, an unreadable expression on her face as she clutches Austin's firearm he thought he hid so carefully between his socks.

"Allison!" He sees her fingers shake slightly and her index finger moves dangerously close to the trigger.

"Andrew." Her voice trembles as fear can be read from her eyes. She doesn't move a muscle as she seems to be afraid to hold this unknown object. "What's this?"

"Be careful, it might be loaded!" When he manages to pry her fingers off the black metal, he feels her hands are clammy and cold. Once he's secured the weapon in his drawer again, he turns back to Allison who's staring at him with undeniable distrust. She's holding herself like the shock has turned her whole body stiff.

"You're not a travel writer, are you?" She bites her lip, afraid of his response, whatever it will be. Austin looks around, needlessly checking whether they're alone in the room. After making sure no one is eavesdropping from outside, he leads Allison to the bed. Once they're seated, he can't seem to let go of her hand. Maybe it was the genuine frightened look on her face, but something about the girl made him sure she could be trusted.

"I have to tell you something." Austin takes a deep breath. Since his main priority was to keep his identity a secret, he doesn't have the faintest clue about how to explain himself. Though, he knows it's the right thing to do. If he loses Allison's trust and she somehow passes her suspicion on to Keith, all his progress would be lost. Allison was his key to a chance of catching the organisation and if it meant for her to know the truth, so be it. He'd make sure to promise her to keep quiet. She might be just a gullible girl, but she's smart enough to understand the weight of it all.

"Go ahead, then." She sounds confident, but the slight tremble in her voice tells him otherwise.

"My name's not Andrew. It's Austin." He checks her reaction, but she just seems confused as to why he would lie about that. "I'm not a travel writer."

"Why would you like to me like that? Was it just to get to me? To get your way with me?" She sounds indignant.

Austin shakes his head quickly. "I did it to protect you. I'm here on a case."

"A case?" Her confusion has been replaced by surprise and a hint of curiosity.

"There's someone on this ship who leads one of the biggest drug dealerships in the world." At the word drug, he catches Allison cowering slightly, though she recovers in a second. "I've been assigned to find out who that is. Undercover."

Allison takes a moment to take it all in before looking at him again. "Why are you telling me all this? You could've just said whatever you do is classified. Instead, you spilt everything." She cocks her head. "Why's that?"

"We-" He cuts himself off to think about this decision once more. He was putting a lot of trust in Allison. It was risky, though, somehow, he knew that confiding in her would be the best choice he'd make this week. "We need an inside source. Since you've been on the ship for quite a while, maybe you can help me."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she replies, her voice soft and weak, as she shakes her head determinedly.

"Why not? You know the crew inside out. You could have vital information, though you might not even realise."

"I really shouldn't." She sounds pissed off. Austin makes the mistake of pushing her once more, drunk with the idea of actually having a solid plan.

"With your help, we can finally-"

"I don't want to, alright?" She snaps and stands up from the bed. Turning around, she has her fists clenched as she lashed out. "I don't want anything to do with it! Just leave me out of it, please!"

"Alright, I'm sorry I brought it up." Austin is taken aback by her reaction and feels his hope drain. "It was a mistake, I know."

"I'm sorry. I'd help you, it's just..." She purses her lips as if she's trying to hold tears back. "I think it might be better for you to know something."

"What is it?" Allison sits back on the bed next to him. As she sits cross-legged, biting her thumbnail, she looks younger than ever.

"I have a bad history with drugs. I can't even think of the word without-" She shivers. Austin's eyebrows shoot up. "My mother was an addict. When I was sixteen, she fell into a coma. Heroin overdose," she explains. Right now, she looked like the definition of fragile, while the fact that she told him all this showed a lot of strength. "That's when my dad started taking these really long walks. Sometimes he stayed away for days. The night my mom passed away, he left again." She sniffles and Austin feels the urge to comfort her. He doesn't. "He didn't return.

"He gave me this necklace the night before he disappeared. Never quite explained why. A part of me believes it's a promise he'll come back someday." Shortly, she touches the medallion on her chest. For the first time since she started her confession, she answers his gaze. "I haven't seen Phil anything less than utterly chipper since that day. You've seen how he is." Austin sees what she's aiming at. Especially when Allison's nearby, he seems to make the extra effort to be cheerful. "He wasn't always like this. I cried so much when I lost them, enough for the both of us. Which is why he didn't, I reckon. He stayed strong, for me. He loved me too much to let me see him suffer, too.

"I can see it in his eyes sometimes. He's tired. I feel like he might collapse if he learns the real reason why you're here." Austin catches his jaw hanging open. Her story was heart-breaking, as it also put Phil in a different light. He was an even better big brother than he thought. Finally, Allison uncovers the reason for revealing her personal story. "I promise to help you with your research as much as I can, Austin. You can trust me. But only if you can promise he won't find out what you're really here for. Just, please don't remind him of that time. It will destroy him." Austin squeezes her hand as reassurance and they stay silent, knowing it's enough.

* * *

"I don't think Allison will be of much use." He'd given this meeting much thought. The more he considered telling Walter and their chief the truth about Allison, the more absurd it seemed. No, he'd have to convince them to stay clear of Allison so Walter wouldn't mess everything up. There's no way she'd trust him like she trusted Austin. The only way he would get the information he needed from Allison was to keep their deal a secret. And so, he did. "She has this whole tragic backstory of a drugs abusing mother."

"She told you all that?" Walter checks, surprise audible in his voice. Austin nods, and Walter's eyebrows rise in approval, content to see Austin gain her trust that quickly. "I was about to bring that up, I discovered it in her files, too," he confirms the legitimateness of the story.

"Besides, she defends Keith like her life depends on it. I bet the girl would catch a bullet for that guy." Austin can't fight the urge to roll his eyes.

After she promised to help him, they'd been talking about the case for a bit. No matter how much Austin hinted at the possibility of Keith being involved, Allison had stubbornly refused to pick up on it. You could say it had annoyed Austin to the point where he was close to giving up on their collaboration already. He wasn't sure whether he still believed their relationship was beneficial. He realises a tad too late how suspicious this comment makes Allison sound.

"If Keith really is involved, Allison is our next main suspect," the chief confirms his assumption. His dark eyebrows with more silver hairs braiding through every time he sees him furrow in concentration. "Though, she seems to have confided in you. I want you to cover her completely. If she feels she can trust you completely, in time, she'll spill what we need."

"Yes, sir." It's not exactly what he wanted to hear, but it was enough. As long as he, alone, was responsible for her, he could still keep their agreement to himself. Suppressing a smile, he nods.

"How's the development on the rest of the crew?" The man switches to the other agent.

"I can't find a single connection with Keith. No direct contact, no indirect contact," Walter complains, looking at his notepad that was, as far as Austin could tell, pretty much empty. Their chief couldn't tell from the other side of the camera, though. "It's like he avoids looking at anyone but his girlfriend."

At the last word, Austin's head snaps up. He can't quite put his finger on the reason why this word bothered him so much.

"Look better, Lewis." Their boss sounded annoyed. "Our devices haven't intercepted any phone calls from him this week. He must be meeting face to face with the team. Just stay near him at all times."

"Copy that, sir," Walter nods, a bit shameful. The few last sentences had come across like a lecture to Austin and it hadn't even been directed at him. The screen cuts to black and Walter lets out a breath.

"Guess I'm going to have to find a way to shadow Keith without seeming like a total stalker," he says with a snicker. "That'll be easy." It sounds sarcastic.

Austin stays silent, considering saying what has been echoing in his mind out loud before speaking up. "She's not his girlfriend, you know."

Walter stops his movements, his hand frozen over his briefcase, as he looks at Austin with utter confusion. "What?"

"They're not together," he elaborates, trying to keep his speech breezy. "She's not in love with him."

Walter shakes his head, trying to make sense of what he's saying. "Why do you care?" It hits him as his eyes narrow. "Keep your eye on the real objective, Moon." He grabs his bag, judgement sounding in his voice. "Not on some pretty girl."

* * *

The following two days, Allison meets up with the agent on the back of the ship whenever she's sure no one will miss her. And that's quite often, he's noticed. They talk about the case, sometimes, but they mostly talk about themselves, about their lives, their occupation, their interests.

They talk about Phil, how he's managed to control the situation with his husband-to-be. Allison tells him they just miss each other dearly and that the distance is making it harder. She says Phil has been living on a cloud the past day because the moment they'll be reunited is approaching. From the way she speaks, Austin can tell Phil still hadn't told her about his resignation. He wonders whether he's planning on telling her soon, maybe this week, and how Allison will react.

The night of their hook up is forgotten. Allison manages to dance around the event in their conversations so gracefully, that Austin nearly fails to remember it ever happened. A certain twinkle in her eyes or a random arm movement makes his mind clouded with the memory of their reckless decision.

They don't kiss. They don't do anything but talk. It's the first time in a while Allison has shown interest in him that is platonic. On one hand, it makes him feel dirty, used, like she's had her fun with him and has lost interest. Though, the way they talk disproves that thought. She cares for him, at least enough to spend hours and hours talking, talking and nothing more than that.

There's one topic Allison avoids bringing up any more; the past. Austin notices how she always speaks in present and future tense, and never talks about an event that happened longer than a few weeks ago. Maybe she refuses to acknowledge it for some reason. Or maybe Austin hasn't unlocked that level in their friendship yet. Though, one particularly cold and dark evening, they meet again.

"Do you have a best friend?" Allison sits on a big, steel object that resembles a reel, but without rope or string wrapped around it. Hugging her knees, she looks at Austin, a tired expression on her face.

"I have a group of close friends. From college. We grab a beer every now and then," he responds, proud to have something that has shown to be rare amongst his peers. A lot of people he knew from work or other the past only focussed on work or family. It was nice to be able to meet up with someone after a long time and spend time with them like you've seen them just yesterday. Allison nods and he could've left it with that. But something about it makes him ask, "What about you?"

"I used to have one," she answers, her eyes focussed on the vague silhouette of the east coast of England.

"What happened to her?" He continues, as he feels like this wasn't an ordinary case of growing apart.

Allison looks down, her thumb touching the wrist he saw bruises on the other night. "She was tired of living."

"I'm sorry," Austin says, turning his head as he feels like he's intruding by continuing to look at her.

"I never noticed anything," she continues. " We were twelve. I taught her to climb trees and, in return, she taught me how to sign. I remember playing hide and seek in the park exactly between our houses. I fell out of a tree and sprained my ankle, but we giggled about it for hours." She moves her jaw, forcing the words out. "When I came to pick her up after dinner, her mum told me to go right up to her room. I came there almost every night. I found her hanging from her window sill."

"I'm sorry, he repeats. He wants her to stop talking, but he also wants to know the reason she's telling him this. So, he lets her continue.

"Did you know that hanging yourself is the most definitive way of committing suicide? Jumping off a bridge gives you a slight chance of survival, given the height of the bridge and the way you land. An overdose is not always vital. But once you step off the platform and the rope cuts you off, there's no going back." With every word she speaks, her voice gets softer but more determined, like it's taking a lot of energy to tell him the story, but she must make it to the end. "I don't think she knew that, then.

"Originally, they didn't look into it. Just another lonely girl ending her life," she shrugs, hiding her anger he knows she has. "After a few days, they noticed something. Her hands," she whispers, holding up her own and staring at them, "they were chafed. The texture of the scarf she had used was almost imprinted on her skin. Nails were chipped." Her hands shake as she lets them touch, carefully, like she could feel the pain she's describing. "They said she might've kicked the stool she stood on by accident. She had struggled.

"She fell off that stool like I fell out of the tree. I wonder if she had felt frightened, too, while she was falling." Allison's eyes are hazy, her mind completely occupied with remembering the event. Austin stares, jumping as her eyes snap back to him. "Her case was filed as impulsive suicide. She changed her mind, Austin."

She lets herself slide off the big object and walks towards Austin. Slowly, he starts to recognise a possible reason for the confession. Maybe she still holds a grudge against the officers who worked on the case and the sudden realisation that he is one of 'them' channelled those strong emotions. The dark, yet still sad look in her eyes only amplifies this presumption.

"She made an unconsidered decision she couldn't reverse." She gulps, her voice breaking and her anger disappearing. "That's what bravery gets you." Within seconds, she moves away from him and goes inside again. Staring at where she disappeared, he can only be sure of one thing; this is the first time he's seen her completely, utterly and unmistakably genuine.

* * *

I watch the two from around the corner.

 _The little girl should know better than to show her vulnerability in front of the agent._

 _As long as she's near me, I can control her, her movements, her speech, her emotions. Now she's spiralling out of control._

 _If I don't do something about it, this freedom might make her mistake foolishness for feelings._

 _Time for her to learn that lesson. Very thoroughly._

* * *

 **Hello, hello!**

 **Thank you for reading, once again. Cue my pathetic speech caused by the human craving for validation through reviews:**

 **Since this is a mystery story, I would love to hear your thoughts and suspicions. You have them, don't you? Please enlighten me, it would help me tremendously. Don't be scared. I'm actually a pretty nice person. Thank you.**

Sweetgirl2711 chapter 4

So is Ally part of the drug cartel? Good chapter! **\- That's exactly the question you should be asking yourself right now and throughout the story. Thanks!**

L awesome 18 chapter 4

Awesome! Happy Birthday hope your day was spent with your loved ones and you had an amazing day :) Wow I didn't expect that to happen XD I wonder what Austins reaction will be in the morning and I wonder who is the person in the end and I can't wait to find out. Amazing Job on the chapter. I love how you write and I encourage you to continue with your talent :) Can't wait till you update. **\- Thank you darling! I hope your day was lovely as well** **That's what reviews do, so you're doing an amazing job!**


	6. Chapter 6

Apparently, the amount of time Austin had spent with Allison hadn't gone as unnoticed as he'd hoped. On Friday afternoon, two nights before the ship would anchor, Walter turned to him after their daily meeting.

"You spend a lot of time with that girl from the band." His tone sounds accusatory and the way he seemed to look down on him doesn't help.

Austin goes into defence, knowing damn well what he was aiming at. "I was assigned to."

"You know what I mean," Walter continues, not wanting to spell it out for him.

"What's your point?" Austin isn't planning on admitting anything himself.

"My point is that you should take your job a bit more seriously." His voice hardens and his anger is visible. "We're here to solve a crime, not to hook up with a possible drug dealer."

"She's not part of it!" Austin feels the need to only address that part of the accusation as he raises his voice. He knew it for sure now. The girl was triggered by her history. There was no way she'd step foot in that world again, no way. Besides, she'd helped him with the case.

"You don't know that," Walter replies, stating the obvious, though Austin refuses to comprehend.

"She's just a girl!" He yells ignorantly.

"She's a suspect!" Walter shuts him down and, in turn, Austin fails to find a reply. He knows he speaks the truth. Walter continues, "And you will treat her like so until we have busted the criminal red-handed. _Capiche_?"

Walter treats Austin's silence as an agreement and nods shortly. Austin stares at the ground as Walter makes his way towards the door without saying another word.

"I think she likes me, Walter," he speaks, just as his colleague is about to exit. The man freezes before looking over his shoulder.

"Likes you?" He repeats his question in a mocking manner, throwing in a snicker which makes Austin cower like the mere idea is laughable. "The only reason she's throwing herself at you, is because you're the first person that has shown an interest in her in god-knows-how-long," he illustrates his presumption. "She's desperate for attention, Austin, that's all. Just because you hooked up doesn't mean she's ready to drive into the sunset with you."

It shouldn't surprise Austin that Walter somehow had found out about what happened, but it does. The expression found on Walter's face clearly shows he finds Austin's bewilderment hilarious. After scoffing once more as Austin tries his hardest to not let the words stab him too much, Walter turns grave.

"I'm not going to stand here and let your emotions cloud your judgement. There are human lives at stake here." The reminder wakes Austin up and he finally realises Walter is right about everything. He's acting unprofessional, childish. The age gap between the two agents had never felt bigger. "I'm not going to tell on you or anything, but," Walter speaks as if he's addressing a child, "Jesus, Austin. Grow up already."

* * *

He'd given Walter's comments a lot of thought, too much thought, as it had kept him when he should be sleeping. He'd spoken the truth, he was acting like an inconsiderate idiot. Not like he'd promised his father to be on this case. Walter had said he wouldn't tell his dad, but, if he'd pursue Allison even more, he had the feeling he'd find out nevertheless. No matter how interested he'd grown in the girl, no matter how much he'd felt like she'd developed feelings for him as well, too, he'd have to let her go. The way he felt towards her had been jeopardizing his rationality and it would continue to do so.

Giving up on sleep, for now, he gets up from his bed. Throwing on a hoodie, he makes the assumption that some exercise might help him catch sleep. It's a desperate decision.

While giving the situation some more thought, he circles the ship, no clear destination in mind. It's intriguing to see the empty halls and rooms, an occasional staff member filling the space, in case of a guest needing assistance. After a few minutes, he finds himself in the heart of the ship; the lobby. Funny how it all seems to circle back to this place, he thinks with a gloomy chuckle. It seems empty, so he continues his way as a sudden voice arises.

"Austin?" From the door behind the reception desk, Allison appears in the doorframe wearing her employee uniform. She shows him a hint of a surprised smile, not helping Austin's dilemma at all. She checks the clock hanging on the wall behind her. "What are you still doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugs. Allison nods slowly, showing a pitiful expression. After scanning the area, finding it completely deserted still, he decides to walk over. It might be the change of environment or the fatigue that throws him off balance, but the problem that kept him up seems to have faded. Leaning on the desk with both hands, he feels exhaustion taking its toll. His brain feels even more clouded than before. "The case," he sighs, "it's messing with my head."

"I'm sorry." Seemingly without thinking, Allison covers Austin's hand with her own. Even though Austin noticeably freezes, it takes her a few seconds to realise the abnormality of the gesture. She pulls her hand back in a flash and quickly finds a different occupation for it. It's as if she thinks that, if she touches a strand of hair fast enough, they'll forget what it touched before.

"So, I wanted to apologise about tonight," she changes the subject with lightning speed. "This whole thing with you," she starts, gesturing at the agent as a whole, "it reminded me of her. I'm sorry if I made you feel somehow responsible for-" She cuts herself off for obvious reasons.

It was Austin's turn to smile sympathetically. "It's alright." He can't deny it had hurt him slightly that she used his attempt to encourage her to be brave as an accusation towards him. But it was clear that her emotions had gotten the better of her, manipulating her ability to consider his feelings. "It seemed like you needed to get it off your chest."

"I reckon you're right." She shows a shy smile. After exchanging gazes for a short while, she takes a deep breath. "Anyway," she breaks eye contact, "you should probably go back to bed. Wouldn't want to be the cause of a sleep-deprived agent." Shooting him a wink, she lowers herself on one of the desk chairs.

"Actually, I was about to walk the decks. Sea air helps me clear my head." Allison nods, still appearing a bit awkward, and he's about to turn around, sensing the end of the conversation, when he stops his tracks. When he catches the receptionist's eyes, he detects a hint of hope. "You're welcome to join me." His voice rising at the end, he rubs his neck. He knows damn well he shouldn't have proposed this, but his hand is still tingling from the contact. "I mean if you want to."

"Won't I completely reverse that effect?" She asks with a rise of one eyebrow, aiming at what he claimed about the outside air.

"Guess there's only one way to find out." It's the first time he's gone along with her occasional flirty remark and he notices it surprises her, too. While biting her lip to hide a smile, she turns around and opens the door behind her.

"Jerry, I'm taking a break! I'll be back in ten," she semi-shouts into the room. Picking up Austin's worried expression, remembering how they openly talked about his real identity and objective on the ship, she reassures him, "Don't worry, Jerry's often lost in his own world, I'm not even sure what he's doing most of the time. Besides, these walls are completely soundproof. It's why it's a particularly popular hook up space."

"Right," Austin responds, trying to stop his mind from imagining how often she's been in there with Keith.

They walk out the door and the cold air hits them immediately. Wind is messing up their hair, but they don't mind. In silence, they follow the wooden floor that circles the ship. Allison whistles a tune mindlessly. Austin is fairly sure she doesn't even notice. He listens for a while, but fails to recognise the melody. It somehow reminds him of a lullaby, though he can't admit he's ever heard it before.

"So," Allison breaks the quiet, "how's the research coming along?"

Austin shakes his head slightly. "You don't have to do that."

She looks up in confusion. "Do what?"

"I know you hate talking about it." Whenever he brought it up during their meetings, he's noticed her lack of response and energy, like the mere thought of drugs and the memory of her loss make her too exhausted to fully cooperate. But she bites through it and helps him with his questions as well as she can, following up on the promise she made. But he's not keen on putting her through it tonight.

"I don't mind." Austin shoots her a look of disbelief. "Really, just talk about it," she adds, shrugging. "It helped me, after all."

Austin knows she won't budge on the matter, so, he simply gives in. "There's one suspect." Allison nods, trying to look genuinely interested, though Austin knows how she really feels about it. "We haven't been able to find any links with other staff members, much less any solid evidence. Time's running out and we've come to realise we've got nothing." He wonders whether it has so much as crossed Allison's mind that Keith is their main suspect. The way she acts on the subject makes him assume that she avoids thinking about suspicions as a whole.

"Maybe you should take a step back," Allison proposes, surprising Austin. It was the first time she contributed to a conversation about the case. It takes him a while to process her reply.

"What do you mean?"

"Tunnel vision. It's what's holding you back. Maybe, instead of focussing on a single person, you should look at the bigger picture. It might help you to find connections better, in a different way." She talks freely like she has managed to let go her fear of touching the subject and Austin beholds in awe. Allison interprets his stare wrongly as she ducks her head. "Sorry, I'm not much of a help."

"You might've failed to notice, but your assistance has brought me more insight into the staff than I could ever have accomplished without." He wasn't exaggerating. Her inside information had saved him a lot of time on research, let alone the facts about the crew and the ship that he'd never had known of without her.

She giggles, performing a curtsey, not noticing her wrist with the small wounds becoming visible for a short second. "Glad to be of your assistance." They walk on, staring into the blackness of the sky and the water that merge. "What's your colleague been doing? I haven't seen him even once."

"I'm not sure." Now that he was forced to think about it, he realised he had no clue. During their meetings with their boss, he was the one to deliver most of the updates. And during the day, he wouldn't catch sight of him. Their passed argument and Walter's condescending tone didn't help the fact that he didn't feel like defending him at all. "He's been looking into the rest of the staff, trying to find a connection. He hasn't uncovered a single thing."

"That's weird," she thinks out loud. "I wonder how much field work he's actually done."

"He's not much about the interactive research. At least, not as much as I am, I guess." He still feels the need to excuse him, somehow. Allison scoffs almost inaudibly.

"Well, whatever he's doing, it's clearly not been paying off." She raises her eyebrows in a questioning manner. Quickly, she recovers. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bud in like that. I'd just hate to see you suffer from his lack of result."

Her voice works enlightening. He might be punished for not completing this case. He'll be blamed as the new, inexperienced kid and Walter will be sympathized with for having to deal with Austin's incompetence. He can't let that happen, he's worked too hard for this assignment. He feels himself tensing up, his fists clenching. As if by default, he relaxes once Allison's fingers interlace with his own. Even though he'd only felt their hands touching once before, he feels addicted to the sensation already.

"Hey," she says, giving his hand a soothing squeeze, "it'll be alright. I'm sure."

"Ally," he starts, mindlessly shortening her name. In response, the girl freezes, pulling him back as their hands are still attached. When he turns to look at her, her eyes are glazed over. She drops his hand. "Oh, god, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, I like it, actually." Her eyes rise to meet his like she's just snapped out of a trance. "Ally," she tastes the words on her lips as they curve in a smile.

"Look at you, I thought you found changes futile," Austin snickers as they continue their stroll. Allison's grin falls and she clutches her hands, pulling the tips of her fingers slightly in concern.

"I should," she mumbles to herself, too soft for Austin to be sure he had understood her properly.

"What did you say?" He checks before they're surprised by the sound of a door opening. Keith's voice is heard loud and clear. Allison's mouth opens to vocalise her shock and Austin moves quickly to cover it with his hand. Once she's understood the importance of silence at this moment, Austin leads her away from the sound. Hiding around the corner, he uses one arm to keep Allison pressed against the wall. With her eyes, she tries to convert a number of questions, but Austin dismisses them all by holding his index finger in front of his lips. Peeking around the corner, he finds two figures that he recognises immediately.

The spider web tattoo is unmistakable, as the moonlight that makes Keith's neck even paler clarifies the contrast. He leans his hip against the railing as he lights a cigarette, throwing the empty package overboard. The other figure stands in the shadow, but his build is clearly distinctive, apart from the fact that his ginger hair seems to reflect light. It's captain Wendell. They seem to be arguing while keeping their voices down. Once he catches a few words that sound an awful lot like 'deal', 'Sunday' and 'shipment', he turns back, takes a few seconds to catch his breath and turns to Allison.

"You need to get out of here." Allison is quick to protest, but Austin shuts her up with one stern look. "It's not up for debate! Go," he whisper-yells. Allison refuses to move a muscle. With a swift move of his arm, he points to the door that leads inside. " _Now_!"

"Austin," she whispers, her eyebrows furrowed in worry. She looks over his shoulder frightened as she takes a step closer. "Be careful, alright?" Her lips are close to trembling and all Austin can do in response is nod silently. She moves to turn around but changes her mind last minute. Before Austin can react, she lets her lips touch his cheek delicately. Without giving him another look, she turns around and hurries through the door, making no sound.

Austin is awoken from a short daze caused by her sudden gesture by Captain Wendell's signature deep voice. Without a second thought, he snaps a few pictures before recording the conversation. He's glad he has the opportunity to let a device do all the work because his brain surely isn't functioning adequately.

* * *

Captain Wendell had the upper hand, that was for sure. It was noticeable by his posture, but also by his tone of voice. Keith was following orders, nothing more than that. They were almost positive the Captain was in charge of the whole operation and their Chief had agreed, looking over the evidence Austin had collected. It was the most logical theory. Walter had praised Austin for his work and given him a firm handshake, followed by a slap on his shoulder. Their argument seems to be forgotten. Austin makes the wise decision of keeping quiet about his company on the evening of his discovery.

A huge weight had fallen off Austin's shoulders. To know that he had a solid share in solving the case made the anxiety bubbling in his stomach disappear with each breath he took. Walter has assured him to take the Saturday off since the only thing left to do was to keep their suspects within sight during the final day before their arrival at their final destination. That gave him a full day of doing whatever he wanted to. Needless to say, someone's spontaneous action the night before made him craving an explanation. Or just her presence.

It's still early in the morning when he begins his day off. Arriving at the front desk, he sees Phil sitting in his usual spot. He now realises circumstances caused him to not seen Phil as often as he'd hoped. He seemed like an alright guy and, maybe, in another life, they would've been friends. He pities how things had gone. Phil moves his head so his black fringe is swept from before his eyes once Austin arrives at his desk.

"Hey, Phil," he greets him happily and Phil copies his wide smile.

"Andrew! What's up?"

"Nothing much." It felt weird being called Andrew, especially since Allison had known his real name for a few days now. Not wanting to be rude, he looks around, trying to spot Allison as he keeps the conversation going. "How are you?"

"Well, we're arriving in London soon, I'm seeing the love of my life once again and we're finally set on a location for the wedding we both love." He smiles a toothy grin and blushes happily. "So, all in all, life is pretty good."

"I'm glad everything's going smoothly for you two again." For a second, Austin forgets Phil had never told him about their troubles personally, but Phil doesn't seem to mind him knowing. He'd probably figured Austin would have heard about it one way or another.

"You can expect an invitation in your mailbox in a few weeks," he casually spoils and Austin's jaw drops open in surprise. Phil can read the excitement in his eyes and shrugs. "It's the least I can do. Without you, I feel like I would've snapped because of the stress and told my sister about my resignation. Thanks for sticking with her this week."

"It's no problem, really." Austin feels like this might not be the best time to tell Phil about his feelings for his little sister. He can't believe how much he's had to lie to the man. He hopes he can come clean about it all one day. Just not yet.

"I'm assuming you're here for Sunny," he guesses before shaking his head while correcting himself, "I mean, Allison. She's done for this weekend, just changing out of her work clothes." Austin smiles at his mishap. It makes him remember Allison's strange response to the nickname he let slip out last night. Phil rolls his chair back and knocks on the door behind him before looking at Austin again. "You know, if you ask nicely, maybe she'll agree to be your plus one. She's never been to a wedding before, I bet she'd appreciate a date."

"Who has a date?" Allison emerges from the shack, her hair in a messy bun, pulling a simple T-shirt over the waist of a black skirt. She cleverly remembers using his alternate name in Phil's presence. "Oh, hey, Andrew. Are you here for me?"

"Eh," Austin hesitates, catching the curious look Phil gives him that's full of expectation and encouragement, "sure."

"Cool, let me just grab my bag." She leans down to pick up a small pink backpack that emphasizes her youthfulness and uses a hand to quickly mess up Phil's fringe. "Don't have too much fun, old one."

"I think I should be the one saying that, Sunny." Allison doesn't seem to pick up on the suggestive comment, but Austin sure does. The wink Phil shoots him only make Austin have to hide his blush more.

They end up on the deck like they have all week. Allison holds the hem of her skirt to prevent the wind from playing with it, ignoring more and more strands escaping her bun and messing up her eyesight. Austin has his hands deep in his pockets, trying to come up with the right way to address last night's occurrence.

"So, about last night."

Allison cuts in, "I've given it some thought." Austin nods, not knowing what to expect her to say next. "I don't want to be associated with the case anymore. I'd rather not talk about it at all."

"Of course, I get that. I wasn't aiming at that-"

"I don't want to be remembered of last night, alright? I just don't want to think about it anymore." Something about how she talks about it lets Austin believe she doesn't mean the moment they were disrupted by the two men, but rather everything that happened before. The way she touched his hand, the way she kissed his cheek. It's clear she'd rather forget it ever happened and, no matter how much it hurt him, he respects that decision. She looks over her shoulder like she feels they're being followed and whispers with her head down, "I shouldn't."

He wants to ask what it means, what she's talking about, why she keeps repeating the same thing she said last night but refrains from it. The despair in her gaze gives him the final push. "Forget last night ever happened," he says.

"Thank you." She releases a breath so deep it seems to contain all her worries, intertwining with the salty air around them and disappearing in the ashy grey clouds hovering the ship. Her tense shoulders fall as her walk becomes more relaxed. He's done her a huge favour, even though he's not sure what made her change her mind about her actions.

"I'll be leaving in a day," he changes the subject slightly. He knows she wasn't really aiming at the case, so he reckons saying this won't upset her. It doesn't.

"You will be," she remembers vocally.

"The dealers..." He starts, checking whether these words have any effect on her. They don't, really. "It'll happen tomorrow."

"Will the passengers be in danger?" She asks, looking straight forward.

"We're positive it will be on land," he says, looking at the coast of Deal, where they'll be arriving soon. Keith and the Captain hadn't discussed much, but from the conversation, they'd confirmed certain pieces of information. "I'll make sure no one even notices."

"I'm glad it's over." Allison walks over to the bannister to stare at the horizon. She fumbles with her hands for a second before looking over her shoulder. "Thank you, Austin."

"It's what I do." He joins her, refraining himself from looking at her too much. Ally, in turn, stares at him fully, like she can't help herself. Her fingers move restlessly, but after looking closely, it seems as if she's itching to touch his hand again, but knows she shouldn't. She's not supposed to. As she looks away, he makes the decision. One final try. "So, I've got this crazy proposal. And before you say no, just hear me out."

"Try me," she says with a chuckle. Austin takes a deep breath.

"How often have you been to Deal?"

Allison takes a while to think, creating the illusion she's counting all the times in her head before lightly responding, "Never. But I've heard it's lovely."

"I heard we happen to anchor near the coast in a few hours." Allison nods expectantly like she might know what the mentioned proposal could be. "And some shots of the buildings would help this review I'm writing enormously."

"Obviously," she answers with a giggle, laughing at the casual way they talk about his fake identity.

"Though, thing is, I could really use some good company for a few fresh opinions and unveiling quotes." By raising his eyebrows and talking with a grin, he continues their little inside joke.

"That sounds like an awful lot of pressure," she claims sarcastically.

"It has come to my attention that you're free tomorrow." Allison raises her eyebrows at this confession, though it's obvious who had spilt. "Question is, do you think you can handle it?"

"If you believe I've got it in me, I'm up for the challenge." Without herself noticing, she'd inched closer to Austin. She freezes at once like she just remembered something. "Though, I'm not sure if I'm allowed."

"Allowed?" Austin snickers. "You surely are in charge of how you spend your day, aren't you?"

Allison doesn't copy his breezy attitude and, instead, hands him her phone. After he's put his number in it, she takes it back and walks away hastily. "I'll let you know.

* * *

The ship had been lying still for two hours already when Austin's phone finally lights up. Not even pretending like he hadn't been waiting for a message, he picks it up immediately.

 _I'm all yours today._

He answers right away. _It's a date._

His phone stays silent for a few minutes and he's about to accept the fact that his response might've been a bit too straightforward when it beeps again.

 _We'll see about that._

* * *

 _Nice of me to let her spend the day with blondie? Don't make me laugh._

 _She was so thankful for it, there's no way she'll break her little performance for a second. She owes it to me now._

 _Besides, this gives me some time to clean up a bit of the mess on the ship._

 _Time to finally make these meetings worth my time._

* * *

 **Sorry for the slight delay. Hope the extra few hundred words make up for it. Reviews make me happy :)**

Guest chapter 5

happy late birthday 2018 **\- Thank you! Hope your New Year's was slammin'!**

Sweetgirl2711 chapter 5

Wow that Ally story was powerful. That so sad how she lost her mom, dad and friend. . i feel like the person in the shadow could be Keith. **\- Thanks for your thoughts! Any updates?**


	7. Chapter 7

They had agreed to meet in an hour on land, right before the ship's exit. Austin couldn't deny he'd spend that time like he was getting ready for a date. Wasn't it one? After deciding on a shirt paired with a flannel on top of simple jeans, he hurries to the designated spot. His watch tells him he's right on time, though Allison is nowhere to be found. He adjusts the camera around his neck, he still had to fit his part, and semi-sits on one of the pillars as his sunglasses shield his eyes from the blazing sun.

It's only a minute later when Allison appears in the doorway of the ship, using her hand to block out the sun as she's examining the people on the dock, scouring for one person in specific. Once her eyes catch sight of Austin, she gives him a short wave paired with a smile before she makes her way down the stairs.

If it wasn't for the fact that he'd probably recognise her in any situation by now, he would've had to look twice. She'd exchanged her swirly dresses and skirts for jeans shorts, something he'd not seen her wear yet. Around her waist, she'd tied a plaid shirt and the hem of a loose-fitting top that ended exactly where the jeans began, so that, only when a breeze came along, an inch of skin was shown. Instead of heels, she was prancing converse. Her locket rests on her chest, as always.

"Woah," he breathes once she's made her way towards him, "you look..."

"Different?" She asks, touching the fabric of the plaid flannel, moving her feet like the shoes feel unfamiliar to her.

"I was going to say amazing, but, yes, that too." Allison giggles in response and moves the heart-shaped sunglasses from the top of her head onto her nose. Her hair is tied in a bun, curls spilling out lively. The combination makes her look young but in a good way. Austin gestures to the small town in front of them. "Shall we, then?"

"Now or never, I guess." While Austin tries to make sense of the comment, the two set into an easy pace along the town's boulevard. Admiring the buildings and the almost-clear blue sky that makes the ocean look a slightly less sad-grey, Austin attempts to figure out whether the silence is awkward or not. The nervous vibe Allison seems to put out makes him fear the worst. As he desperately grasps for a topic to introduce, while words fail him, Allison leads him to the side of the path where a half circle surrounded by a white, stone bannister, looking out colourful houses.

"Shouldn't you be taking pictures, hotshot?" Allison asks sarcastically while pushing the camera lightly so it swings against his chest. In response, he lifts the camera and points it at her. Once she figures out his next step, she covers the camera with her hand. "Not of me!" She laughs. "Of the view, it's gorgeous."

"Well, maybe you're part of the view for me," he responds sassily and Allison rolls her eyes before failing to hide her smile behind her hand.

"Excuse me!" They're interrupted by an elderly woman with a thick French accent who they hadn't noticed approached them. She points at the camera in his hand and asks politely, "Would you mind taking a picture of us?" She points at the man behind her, supposedly her husband. "You look like you know what you're doing."

"Not a problem," Austin replies with a nod before the lady presses a little Nikon in his hands. As the couple heads over to the edge of the platform and stands closely together as they pose for the picture, Austin raises the camera and works his way around the tiny device. After snapping a handful, the two thank him.

"Can we return the favour?" She gestures to Austin's camera before they have time to turn around. Austin and Allison share a look, surprised by the question and lacking the ability to form a reply right away. Finally picking up on the slightly opposed, nervous look in Allison's eyes, he refuses politely.

"Oh, no, we're good. Thank you," he says, shaking his head. The woman refuses to acknowledge his reply as she reaches for the camera around his neck anyway.

"Don't be silly! You'll curse yourself for not capturing enough memories later." She rushes Austin to hand over his camera. While lifting the strap over his head, he shoots an apologetic look towards Allison who just smiles shakily. "Now, get together, a bit closer." The two stand side by side, not making the extra effort to pose for the camera. The lady doesn't look like she's planning on taking any picture before they do and, looking at Allison, they both know it.

Murmuring an apology, thinking back at how Allison seemed ashamed about making suggestive moves the other night, Austin lies an arm around her shoulder. Her body shocks once he's touched her, but, much to Austin's surprise, she wraps an arm around his waist in response. Only after he hears two snaps from his camera, he notices he'd been looking down at the girl next to him in wonder after her brave move. He smiles at the camera for a few more seconds before the lady puts down the camera again.

"I hope that turned out alright," she smiles and grabs her husband's hand, "Have a nice day, you two!"

Austin scrolls through his camera roll and finds most shots blurred or crooked, but some turned out surprisingly nice. He refrains from staring at them for too long and hides his blush. Allison only has eyes for the couple walking away from them.

"I hope I'll still be in love like that at their age," she sighs before turning around to lean on the bannister.

Austin follows her movement and places his elbows on the white stone. "If you find the right person, you'll be set," he shrugs.

"You make it sound easy," she snickers cynically. Austin takes a second to review her negative attitude and notices her sarcastic smile turning in a frown.

"Well, maybe it is," he proposes carefully. Instead of lashing out, like he thought she might've done, she sighs, showing a tired expression as she detaches herself from the balustrade.

"Not for everyone, Austin," she says before she keeps walking towards the town, Austin quickly following. He stays quiet, wisely deciding to put the subject to a rest. Once they enter the centre, it becomes more crowded. Music emerges and people as colourful as the buildings they stand in front of surround them as they walk down a big street.

"I love street artists!" Allison exclaims, the past conversation long forgotten. A girl with white makeup, dressed in a brightly coloured red, Victorian dress smiles at them and performs an exaggerated curtsey before charmingly fanning herself with a beautiful white, silk fan. Allison copies her curtsey happily before walking on. "I always wonder what their motive is. For some it's a passion," she speaks before they pass a man sitting in the air, holding a large stick, creating the idea he's floating. On closer inspection, you can see his makeup seems slapped on and the stick is falling apart. "For some it's a final straw to make a living, to survive. But they all look the same on the surface." She admires the figures once more before sighing. "I'd like to think they enjoy doing it, as gullible as that may sound."

"Nothing wrong with being a little gullible sometimes," Austin chuckles. The irony of Allison calling herself the word he and Walter had described her as is almost mean.

"Look at those colours!" She ignores his comment as she points at a man who has a handful of colours painted on his face, his silly outfit in rainbow colours complementing his makeup. "I can't even be near any kind of makeup without swelling like a balloon."

As Allison is taking the time to absorb the beauty of the people around her, Austin takes his time to confirm her statement. He'd never noticed, but he'd never seen Allison with any kind of makeup. This explains the lack of makeup on the vanities in her dressing room. Allison touches his arm shortly and points at a man covered in gold.

"He looks amazing!" They make their way over to the artist to inspect him closely. Not only has his suit a beautiful golden shine, also his hat, his walking stick and his monocle are completely golden. He's standing frozen, perkily leaning on his walking stick, tipping his hat. As Austin digs in the pockets of his jeans, he finds a few pounds that he drops in the man's equally gold cup.

Statically, like a robot, he comes to life. After tipping his head, looking at Austin, he does a short robotic dance that looks, admittedly, quite good. Reaching into his pocket, the man lifts a little pendant and presents it to Austin. It's a tiny golden bell on a chain, representing a jingle bell, with a delicate pattern cut out, allowing you to see right through it. As Austin moves it, a happy tinkling is heard.

"A little early for Christmas, isn't it?" Austin asks the man in a joking matter. In return, he smiles and goes back to his original position.

"It's beautiful," Allison beams, letting the bell rest on the palm of her hand while Austin holds it by its chain. Austin thinks for a moment before dropping it in her hand.

"It's yours," he confirms with a nod towards the object once she raises her eyebrows in surprise. For a moment, he believes she's about to reach up and kiss his cheek, but she changes her mind last minute and settles for a 'thanks' paired with a blush.

* * *

After walking through the town for another hour, they decide on stopping for lunch. At a little café with a large terrace overlooking the square, they sit down. Even after they finished their food, they sit, talking about anything and everything. Though Austin tries to introduce the topic of Keith several times, she refuses to even acknowledge it. Instead, they discuss how fast the week went by, how long Allison's shifts had been, how Austin had found his first real investigation and how Phil had made up with his fiancé.

"Can you believe he's getting married soon?" Allison leans back in her chair and turns her head towards the sun. "It's all going so fast, he taught me how to ride my bike just yesterday."

Her light attitude surprises Austin. He thought she'd be more upset about him moving on with his life. "Are you happy for them?"

"Of course," she replies, "they're soulmates." Brushing a lock from her vision, she's unable to hide a glimpse of envy in her eyes. "I guess the thought of sharing him is weird to me. But he's getting older and life goes on."

"You're not wrong." He's not quite sure how to respond to her moment of vulnerability all of a sudden. She's exactly as dependent on Phil as Phil had feared. It was obvious this was the first time she'd had the chance to say it out loud, shown by the way she's avoiding his eyes desperately.

Suddenly, she releases a giggle. "I sure hope I won't take as long as Phil did, Jesus," she laughs. "I ain't waiting another fifteen years."

Austin bursts out in laughter with her. "Be sure to invite me, if I'm not dead by then." Allison snort laughs as she moves one leg over the other. Because of the movement, the plaid shirt that normally covered her upper thigh moves and shows a piece of skin Austin realizes he'd never seen before, for a reason he could easily imagine. Three dark red wounds, already healing, are spread out over the skin. They have the exact shape and size of a cigarette tip. He points at the skin. "Are those-?

Once Allison notices what he's seen, she covers her thigh up with the flannel again and lets out a fake giggle. "Just an accident, I'm quite clumsy sometimes." She throws her hair back to empathize her breezy explanation.

"An accident?" Austin isn't sure whether to laugh at her pathetic attempt or to get angry. He chooses the latter. "Jesus Christ, I know damn well you didn't do that yourself."

"How are you so sure, then?" She responds in an equally annoyed way, in which she represents a stubborn teenager.

"You don't smoke," he states, as it is the most obvious thing in the world. It is, though, to him.

"I might." Her way of arguing doesn't stray from smart-mouthed replies.

"You don't," he replies, his patience slipping away from him.

"You don't know that!" She keeps arguing, refusing to give him any kind of reasonable objection.

"I've spent hours consecutive with you. I haven't seen you touch a single cigarette," he reminds her and immediately sees his sensible points scare her. "You don't show the symptoms of a smoker." His continuous arguments make her defenceless and she knows it. He takes a deep breath before his final hit. "You don't taste like smoke."

"Stop it." Reminding them both of the night they slept together was a low blow, but it worked, which means it was worth it. She's wrapped her hands around herself and doesn't seem to be planning on saying anything anymore. But Austin is long from done.

"Did Keith do this to you?"

This comment makes Allison's head snap back up. "I said, stop it!" Despite her rage, she keeps her voice at a moderate volume, though she seems to spit fire. "What's this obsession with Keith you have? What did he do to you? Why can't you just leave him alone?" She asks irritated. "Leave _us_ alone?"

Austin is taken aback by her sudden defensiveness. Since it's the first time she's talked about an 'us', while she'd assured him that she and Keith could never be an 'us', he's lost for words for a moment. The arguments he was so confident about just a minute ago don't seem to hold the power they used to. "If he's abusing you-" he starts presumptuous.

"He's not!" She hisses, looking around, paranoid someone might've caught wind of their conversation. "He never has."

"Do you swear?" Finding out who _did_ do it to her seems a lot less important all of a sudden. All he wants now is to know she's telling the truth.

"Will you leave it alone if I do?" Austin nods wordlessly and Allison sighs powerlessly. "He didn't do this to me. And that's the truth."

Austin is sure in that moment, for the first time, she's entirely honest. And that's enough, for now.

* * *

"The architecture is truly what was promised, isn't it?"

As they left the terrace, they left the conversation behind them as well. Having found what seemed to be the heart of the town, they choose a wall to sit down on. A church, small yet prominent, stands before them which attracts groups of tourists every few minutes. A few other tourists and locals sit among them, each minding their own business. The background of their view consists of a line of terraced houses in bright tones.

Austin quickly notices Allison hadn't been looking at the same things in their scenery as he had, as she raises her eyes to the buildings he's aiming at in an uninterested sense. "I don't care for buildings. They're so," she starts, shrugging as she picks appropriate adjectives out of thin air, "permanent, certain, so..." She runs out of inspiration, though she doesn't seem satisfied as she snaps her fingers a few times to help her search. It takes a few seconds before Austin comprehends her point.

"Predictable."

She looks up, surprised. "Exactly, it's dull." Sighing, she takes another look at the houses, like she's trying to see what others see. "They always say architecture is full of life," she shrugs. "It's just a pile of bricks."

Austin laughs. "I know a ton of people who would tear you apart if you'd say that to their face."

She smiles in response. " I know you agree with me." When Austin fails to object, she knows she's right. He'd never been particularly interested in architecture. "People, those are the ones worth admiring." She turns back to her original preferred sight, the ever moving crowd of people. "You, out of all people, should be interested in the study of human behaviour."

Austin studies the group too. "They're," he says, pausing, as he finds his main example sitting next to him, "complicated." Allison doesn't seem to notice Austin had used the ambiguous word to describe her while studying her closely.

"Exactly," she agrees, her eyes moving from face to face, "that's what's exciting about them." Her lips form a smile as her stare comes to a stop at two teenage girls sitting together. Austin follows her gaze. The short haired girl is laughing widely as she stares ahead, the curly haired girl looking at her with a closed-mouthed smile. Allison's eyes show some kind of omniscience like she knows what will happen just with one look. "No matter how well you think you know someone, you can never be sure what that person really thinks. Or what their next move is."

The smile falls from the girl's lips, the other still not looking at her, as she wraps a curl around her finger, a doubtful look on her face. Then, without warning, she leans forward. Using one hand to brush a short lock behind her ear, she captures her friend's lips. Guilt is written all over her face once she leans back and sees the girl's shock. When the short-haired girl grabs her hand, she smiles once again and kisses her again. Allison smiles.

"Or that what they say is the truth," she concludes. Austin stares, not at the girls, but at Allison, who still fails to meet his gaze.

"Who are you?" He ponders out loud. He feels numb and clueless, and he finds it is the only thing he manages to say, still.

Allison doesn't hesitate to respond. "That's not the question you need to ask yourself." She stays silent, feeling his gaze burn through her. "I can see it, you know."

"What?" Austin checks.

"That look you're giving me. It's how my brother looks at his fiancé." Austin blushes, averting his eyes. Allison continues, "You're trying to fit me into your long-term perspective." As she's proven she can, she looks right through him. Her face stays neutral, making Austin unable to read her reaction. Finally, she smiles, but not a happy smile. More like a hopeless smile, as if the desperation is humorous. "I'm just a passer-by, hotshot."

Allison disproves her statement by leaning her head on Austin's shoulder. Austin, in turn, stays silent, afraid of breaking the spell by a wrong movement or response. Allison's body resembles one of a rag doll, any form of life far to be found, as she releases a weak sigh.

"There's an expiration date written all over this," she whispers through almost-closed lips. "The date is today."

* * *

 _I've been counting the minutes until show time. Only a few more hours._

 _I can't wait to see the looks on their stupid faces._

 _The company will surely get shut down. No one survives this kind of publicity._

 _The ship won't say without me._

 _That's for sure._

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed that! We're inching towards the reveal, hope you're ready for it.**

chapter 6

Great chapter! Now. I think the shadow is someone else. From this chapter i think ot could be. Phil. There is something fishy about him. I feellime Ally is invome without knoeing since she is oblivious about ehst happenning.. **\- Thank you! Interesting thought! Thank you so much for sharing. Hope you'll stay to see the reveal soon :)**

L awesome 18 chapter 6

Hmmmmm amazing job, I think Keith is abusing Ally and I know this is stupid but I somehow feel that the person at the end is Agent Walter. Love the story. **\- Thanks for your thoughts! I like the way you're thinking, girl. That's a refreshing suspicion you've got there :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Without another word, Allison had raised her head from Austin's shoulder and jumped off the wall. As if she'd forgotten Austin's presence altogether, she walked on, not looking back. At first, he wasn't sure whether to follow her, but decided she didn't look particularly upset. Once he caught up with her and noticed her relaxed state, he knew he made the right decision. He stayed quiet.

The long street leading them through the centre of the town had transformed into an even wider road where artists displayed their creations on worn out sheets. While, on one side a caricature and realistic drawings were shown next to scenery paintings that were for sale for a fitting price, some fortune tellers and musical artists alternated on the other.

"I love streets like these," she says while looking around. Austin looks at her shortly, wondering how many more times she'd confuse him like she just did and how many more times he could put up with it. Though he felt it drained him mentally, the curiosity of getting to know her better and better with every passing minute pushed him on. He wanted to know her, to get to her core, he _needed_ to.

"Let me guess, lots of people?" This day had helped him familiarize himself with her way of thinking and he finally noticed he was starting to understand who she really was. Peculiarly, she appeared to be a completely different person from who she seemed to be onboard. The way she acted, the things she said; it confused him. Though, it didn't feel like a bad kind of confusing. More like a pleasant kind, an addictive kind.

Allison nods, a smile playing on a corner of her lips, like she could also tell how he was starting to know her truly. "Lots of _interesting_ people." She eyes an old man who plays jazz on a rusty saxophone like his life depends on it and a little girl dancing lively by jumping around, making the hem of her sunflower-yellow dress swirl around. "They're extraordinary."

As Austin looks around, a plan starts forming in his head. There's something about being envious of her making all the spontaneous decisions and surprising him. He's sick of awaiting her next move and ready to make one himself. Glancing at her subtly, he knows he'll catch her off guard.

"Are you ready to make your superficial research a bit more thorough?" He asks cheekily before grabbing her pulse and pulling her through the crowd to the side of the road.

"Wait, what?" Panic is shown in her eyes as she's not used to not being in control in Austin's presence. Once she picks up Austin's plan, her struggle becomes fiercer. "Austin, I don't believe in this stuff!" She hisses, careful to not let the lady they were approaching hear.

"Who cares? It's harmless," he reassures her, letting go of her wrist once they make it to their destination. Jokingly, he raises his eyebrows and says, "Maybe she'll reveal some of those deep, dark secrets you've been hiding." He can't see the expression on her face, but her slight gasp lets him know enough.

The old woman was sitting on a wooden chair, organizing coloured stones in a calm manner. She was the only one who wasn't trying to attract new customers. Her sign read 'Uncover the Secrets from Within Yourself' and Austin couldn't deny it made him curious, especially taking into account the person he was with. Maybe this could teach him a thing or two about who this girl really was. It couldn't hurt to try.

"Well, what do we have here? What an odd combination," the woman gasps happily, clutching her wrinkly hands in front of her chest. "A rainbow of colours and the clearest spirit I have ever read. Both as radiating as ever, though." She smiles sweetly at the two, who now have confusion and amazement written all over their faces. "How can I help you two today?"

"You read people's auras?" Austin guesses, taking another questioning look at her sign. Allison stands back, her doubt clear.

"Auras, spirits, lines, thoughts..." She shrugs, "Basically everything you don't allow yourself to uncover." She takes another look at the duo and smiles excitedly. "And it seems like I've hit the jackpot today. It would be my honour to discover the depths of both of you."

Austin's smile falls. "Both?" Now he remembers he never made clear it wasn't his intention to also undergo this experience himself. The lady nods.

"If you'd be open to it," she responds friendly. Austin understands there's no way back when she beckons him to come closer. "Let's start with you, young man. I need an easy one before I get started on the tiny lady." Allison visibly jumps and Austin grins as he sits down in front of the woman. She gestures at his wrist. "Please remove all accessories and jewellery. Metal interferes with the gemstones." Austin does as he's told before the lady removes a big, blue stone hanging from a necklace from around her neck and presses it on his forehead.

"Your aura sure matches your hair, blondie. Quite the golden shine you've got there," she speaks, her eyes closed in concentration. Austin can't fight the chuckle escaping from his lips, while Allison just views the two from a short distance with a blank expression.

"Is that a good thing?" He asks curiously.

"It's uncommon," she admits before leaving a short silence fall, "but definitely good." As the gem explores the outlines of his upper body, Austin's eye falls on a little paper that lies on the table close to them. It shortly lists what each colour represents. Gold apparently stands for wisdom, enlightenment and intuitive thinking. Austin reckons she put it there to ensure customers consult the note instead of making her lose focus. Therefore, he wisely stops talking and keeps his gaze on the list.

"And just a hint of dark blue," she nods, barely touching his chest with the stone. Austin checks. Dark blue: fear of self-expression. "That's an interesting set of colours you've got there." With a smile and a nod, she lets Austin know that the reading is over. He's lost for words as he gets up from the stool, making place for Allison. It's clear she's not ready, if she'd ever be, as she stares at it with wide eyes.

"Come on, darling, it won't hurt one bit", the woman urges. Allison moves, eventually, though her hesitance screams that she's not quite sure whether that's true. She removes her own jewellery, the locket around her neck and the many silver bracelets on her pulse. As she hands Austin the silver, the wounds on her pulse Austin had seen before become visible, though he's never seen them up close before. She quickly pulls back again.

In a split-second, he recognizes the shape the four red stripes have. They're the exact same size and thickness as the nails of her four fingers and, right then, a flashback of Allison clutching her pulse tightly appears in front of his eyes. Pulse turned away from him and fingers hidden behind it, he can picture the four nails digging in her skin. As he answers her gaze again, he's sure she knows what he just discovered. She ignores his shocked, questioning look.

Austin can't find himself able to speak. It's not like he can ask her about it now, in front of the woman, but he bets she wouldn't grant him any kind of confession anyway. Just when he thought he had the upper hand, he's reaching in the dark, once again.

He'd almost forgotten her presence, so absorbed in thought, when he hears the lady's warm voice again. It makes him remember that what he's just seen, was only in his mind. He stuffs Allison's jewellery in the pocket of his jacket. "You sure got the pride flag written all over you, don't you?"

"Excuse me?" Allison blushes, taking her comment a bit too literary.

"I've never seen such a diverse mix of colours. Truly remarkable," she mumbles, like she can't believe her own eyes. Austin and Allison share a look before diverting their attention on the piece of paper. As if reading all the colours is a huge task, she shakes her shoulders loose. "Let's just take this one step at the time.

"The dark pink isn't a surprise," she chuckles. They check; immature, dishonest. The same colour appears on Allison's cheeks. "Your red colour is so deep it's... It looks like it's slowly transitioning into a dark red. The two might be connected." Austin looks at the note. Deep red: strong will power, survival oriented. Dark red: Anger. The dark red colour is the same as the wounds on her wrists and the ones on her thigh. He wonders whether anger might be the cause of them, whether it's her own or someone else's.

"And your yellow." She stares at it in amazement for a second. "It's so rare." She's silent for a while, like she's trying to figure out the legitimacy of the colour. Then, she laughs. "You almost had me fooled, you know. But, no matter how hard you try, you can't fake a yellow glow." Yellow: playful, identity, curiosity. Austin looks at Allison who refuses to make eye contact. Had she been faking her playfulness this whole time? Did this prove Austin's impression that she was switching between identities? What was her real identity? Did he even know the true Allison?

"Yellow is the most genuine colour there is. Therefore, it's very easy to tell when it's being faked. And, honey, it's worn out." The woman carries a pitiful expression which Allison stubbornly ignores. "I can't imagine how tiring it is to be so emotionally controlled. You're not a puppet, honey." Allison moves her chair backwards promptly and is about to get up when the lady speaks up again. "Your bright pink core is beautiful, moreover, it's genuine, it's real." Austin looks. Bright pink: Sensitive, purity, affection. In brackets it says, a new or revived relationship.

"I think we should go," Allison says decisively. Austin has no power to stop her and immediately steps back to give her space. The lady stops them again, this time with a regretful look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, that was intrusive. Let me make it up to you." Allison stands still, awaiting her continuation. "Could I take a look at your hands before you go? I promise, it'll show better things."

"I guess that's alright," Allison mumbles and Austin watches as she sits back down. He can only observe and await what else the lady can say about the girl he doesn't know as well as he thought. He stands at her right as she offers her hand to the woman. She takes a few seconds to run her finger over the most distinct lines in her palm.

"That's very interesting," she says, nodding. Just as Austin is about to ask her to elaborate, his curiosity taking over, she speaks again. "See, this line at the top is your heart line. It shows your attitude towards love and the impact it has on your life." Allison nods, interest shown on her face. The woman continues, "The one under it is your head line, also called the wisdom line. It often says something about the quality of your life and how important things like your occupation affects it.

"As you can see, there's a small line connecting the two. It's a thin one but it deepens your heart line miraculously." With her pink, she points at the shallow groove that still stands out from the other smaller lines. Just under the middle finger, the line runs from the heart to the head line diagonally before the head line gets noticeably deeper. The lady keeps her finger on the line as she raises her head to look at Allison.

"If I could give you one piece of advice," she offers and Allison nods almost unnoticeably, "The person you met through your career might seem like an irrational and naïve option, but that option will lead you heart line all the way to your index finger." She explains while turning her hand a bit. Following the path to the tip of Allison's index finger, she gestures to the person her finger is coincidentally pointing at; Austin. "Which is the one that always points in the right direction."

* * *

"That was quite the experience, huh?"

As the sun started to set, Austin had proposed to find a bar to grab a final drink before they had to get back. Allison had agreed, Austin paid the lady and they soon found a local pub. There, they grabbed a local pint and sat down in one of the corner booths. The tables and bar all seemed to frame the middle of the bar, where an old, oak brown piano stood. No one dared to touch it, though it was clearly meant to be played by the bar's crowd.

"Quite," Allison smiles, looking down at her hands. She showed signs of forgetting the way the lady managed to get on her nerves earlier. "She was nice."

"Any regrets about joining me?" Austin's voice sounds playful, though he studies the girl over the rim of his glass to pick up any signals of actual doubt on her face.

"Honestly?" She starts, after which she sighs happily. "I haven't felt this free in years."

Austin blushes. "I'm glad." A silence arises, which gives the two plenty of time to review the day in their minds. All the awkward moments that led them to do nothing but blush in embarrassment, the arguments, the way Allison had confused him with the things she said and did over and over again. It's like she wants to prevent him from remembering too much to keep him in the dark as she quickly thinks of something to say.

"So," she says, giving him a nervous smile, "did you get enough shots for that review of yours?"

"Plenty, thanks," he replies, snapping a picture of her hiding behind her tall glass before she can object. She giggles in response. Just like that, the playful Allison is back. Though, this time, it's like he can _see_ the fake yellow glow the fortune teller had talked about. It makes him lose focus. He shakes his head in attempt to let his doubt disappear. It doesn't.

"I can't believe you actually drag that camera everywhere you go, just to make your fake identity believable." It feels funny to be able to talk about his real job without having to check whether someone is listening. Austin forces himself to relax and cracks a smile.

"The one the lady took of us turned out great, by the way," he says as he scrolls through his camera roll, not noticing how Allison's smile falls. Feeling awkward by being reminded of a situation that felt just a little too intimate to her, she sips her beer silently. Austin continues obliviously, "I can send it to you after-"

"No, that's alright," Allison refuses stubbornly. As Austin awaits an excuse, she seems to make one up on the spot. "You don't even have my number." The reminder feels like a stab to Austin for some reason. When he thinks he finally reached the point of having a chance to a real relationship with her, he remembers that, what they have, isn't normal, isn't regular, might not even be _real_. And that's how she plays, Austin comes to realization. She entices, he chases, in which she pulls back. It's a game he is, somehow, still not tired of playing. He's not sure if he ever will be.

"I wonder why they don't play any music in here," Allison ponders out loud, totally ignorant to Austin's train of thoughts that kept him silent for a minute.

"I reckon it's to encourage guests to play something," he says, exhaustion and willpower combating in his mind. Eventually, determination and fixation on Allison wins. He keeps playing. "Wanna give it a shot?" He winks.

"Oh, no, that's not my scene," she replies with a chuckle.

"Not your scene?" Austin checks, obviously aiming at her occupation being nearly the same scene.

Allison laughs. "That's not the same!"

"In both situations, your audience is more or less trapped and forced to listen to you."

"Ouch, who knew you could be so vicious?" Allison smirks and Austin laughs in response. He feels a rush of happiness and a tickle in his stomach. This was the reward he was playing for. He needed to keep playing in order to avoid being pushed away. That was the game's objective, he's learned by now.

"Well? It's almost time to go back, make your last minutes off board worthwhile. Who knows when's the next time you step foot on land again," he shrugs, remembering how long she hadn't left the ship for before he met her. Allison stays silent, like she's considering his compelling argument and taking it a bit more serious than he'd intended. She's lightly scratching the crusts forming on her moon shaped wounds on her pulse with her finger nails as she's staring in the distance. Then, she makes eye contact again and Austin is sure he's seeing something he's never seen before. He's not sure what, though.

"You know what? I'll do it." Allison stands up in one swift motion, the look in her eyes still a bit hazy.

"Really?" He asks.

"Yeah," she says, her eyes now focussed on the piano, as if it was the only thing she still cared about. "I mean," she carries on, "we don't have much time left. Let's make the best of it while we're still here." Making her way over to the instrument without looking back, she sits down on the stool. Slowly the conversations in the bar come to a stop once they notice the piano is occupied. Allison keeps her gaze on her fingers touching the keys while waiting patiently until the entire bar is quiet.

Instead of introducing the song she'll be playing, she simply starts pressing the keys in a calm fashion. She's facing Austin, though she hasn't looked at him once after leaving the table.

"When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind. He broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to reassemble it," she sings. Her voice trembles ever so slightly, though she doesn't let any other signs of nerves show. In fact, she doesn't even acknowledge her audience at all. "He broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to reassemble it. "And my mother swore that she would never let herself forget. And that was the day when I promised I'd never sing of love if it does not exist. But darling,"

For the first time, she raises her eyes and looks directly at Austin. "You are the only exception. You are the only exception. You are the only exception. You are the only exception."

* * *

I look at the empty body in front of me, skin as white as snow and pink marks around the neck.

 _It's just business. I truly hope there are no hard feelings._

I smirk before looking at the blue tie in my hands. I frown slightly as I inspect the wrinkles I made in the fabric and rub over them, trying to smoothen them out.

 _A certain punishment was in order. I'm sorry, partner. You came in handy to some extent, though it may sound like cold comfort._

Moving my collar, I wrap the tie around my own neck and fix a simple knot. I scoff as the corpse is starting to disgust me and use the sole of my shoe to give it a firm push. I await the splash sound and smile contently when it arrives. After looking over my shoulder to ensure I haven't left anything behind, I check my watch. She should be back soon. I touch the blue tie once more, my hands itching.

 _Now, let's see whether this colour matches Allison's skin just as nicely._

* * *

 **Sorry for the week delay. It's been super hectic, but no bumps in the road towards the final ending from now on.**

 **If you don't know, the song she sang is called The Only Exception by Paramore, I highly advise you to check it out. It's a killer.**

 **Hope this update finds you all well. Keep sharing your thoughts,** plssss **. Much love and until next time**

L awesome 18 chapter 7

Wow! So I'd like to think that Ally knows Austin has some sort of feelings for her due to something she said about; she's seen the way Austin looks at her the way Phil looks at his fiancé.  
I'm so eager to find out who's abusing Ally and I know Keith is the only one that smokes or is there someone else that I didn't catch that smokes aswell? But anyway I loved the chapter and I can't wait for your next update :) **\- Yess, hope you enjoyed the mysterious fluff in this one! Good eye, let's find out soon**

Sweetgirl2711 chapter 7

I didn't realize how badly i spelled my last review. Thankfully you understood. Ally likes Austin but Ally doesn't think she is worthy of his love that why she pushes him away. Can't wait to find out who it is. **\- No worries, love! Thanks for your review, hope you enjoyed this one**


	9. Chapter 9

Ignoring the applause, Allison had finished her song and stood up, walking right past Austin with a blank expression. Dumbstruck, he'd quickly slammed some money on the table and followed her outside. As he catches up with her, it takes a while for him to process the situation. He wonders why he's not mad, why he doesn't address her odd behaviour until he realizes; she does this all the time. This is who she is, at least, to him. So, he lets it pass.

"That was brave," he just says, his brain now blank with exhaustion of the mentally tiring day. He tries to initiate a conversation about her one out of many moments of weird attitude, one more time, to no avail, as Allison bounces his statement back with no remorse.

"We should get back."

So, they get back and Austin stays silent. The ship appears in his perspective, as does the realization that this is the final stop. This is the very end. No more meetings with Allison, no more getting to know her bit by bit before having to doubt everything he thought he knew, no more ambiguous comments and sudden outbursts of emotion. In a strange way, he'll miss it. He'll miss her. He hates not having her figured out yet. He needs more time, time he does not have. And he knows, he's not ready for it to end just yet.

Allison stays silent as she lets his fingers interlace with hers. He's not even sure whether she notices until he feels a slight tug. Ready to let go, he loosens his grip before he feels her fingers wrapping even more tightly around his palm. For a second, she's squeezing his hand like her life depends on it, like she wants to imprint the feeling of his hand to savour forever, before she lets go and leaves Austin wondering whether it all just might've been a figment of his imagination.

They walk the stairs, Allison before Austin, very slowly, unnecessary slowly. Right before boarding, Allison turns around. After looking into Austin's eyes for a while, her mouth slightly open like words are just at the tip of her tongue, she turns away and leans on the bannister of the small platform. Austin has never been happier to see someone refraining from opening a door.

"This is it, huh?" Austin speaks for her. He walks over, leaving a foot between them as he copies her posture. The sun is setting, but not before it lays down a coating of light on the waves between the ship and the shore. They keep their eyes on the horizon, dark red and purple painting the sky like a canvas and count the birds staining the portrait in silence. "Tomorrow morning, we arrest the team," he says, though he doesn't know why.

"The ship will get a new load of unknowing passengers. I return to Rotterdam with them," she adds, studying her hands handing over the railing. "Everything will go back to the way it was."

"And we might never meet again," Austin says, the words paining him more than she had managed to this whole week. He looks at her, she doesn't return his gaze. He runs a hand through his hair, standing up straight, she follows unconsciously. He takes a step closer, she looks up. He stands still, waiting. She doesn't seem to notice raising her head and laying a hand on his jacket. He hands over control, she eagerly receives.

They kiss.

Almost.

"Austin," Allison whispers, their lips closer than they have been in days' time. She stops moving, causing Austin to freeze too. "I have to tell you something."

The situation feels quite humorous all of a sudden, making Austin grin. "Now?"

Allison doesn't copy his smile and moves away, leaving Austin perplexed. She doesn't respond right away, instead, she sniffs and looks away. Wrapping her arms around herself, she frowns guiltily.

"Keith proposed." Austin isn't sure how to respond, so he doesn't. He just stares. "This morning," she specifies. Something about the way she announces it makes him believe she hasn't answered positively to Keith's question, at least, not yet.

"Do you want to marry him?" He asks in return. Allison avoids his gaze.

"I don't know," she says softly, scared of admitting it to him. Hope blossoms from this response. Austin takes a step towards her.

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know," she repeats, now louder. "I don't know! I don't know!" She panics, leaning over the railing in distress, like she'd consider leaping over it to escape. " I don't-. Know, know, know!"

Austin observes her in shock, wondering whether the repetition of the word 'know' might be caused by the panic attack until he realizes it is not the word 'know' she keeps exclaiming. It's the word 'no'.

She's screaming now, wailing, tears rolling over her cheeks. Her hands reach out to the blackness beneath them, the waves hitting the rocks lying before the dock. Once he decides that comforting her is the best thing to do, even though he's learned that people undergoing a panic attack are unpredictable and not consciously aware of what they're doing, he takes a step towards her. And that's when he sees what, or rather, who, made her so upset.

He didn't think it was possible, but his skin is another shade whiter, almost translucent now. Only a part of his face is visible, most consumed by the charcoal coloured water. A wave moves his head to the side for a second. His cheeks look hollow and are a vague shade of dark blue. His eyes are wide open, staring at nothing at all. Marks on his neck show the obvious cause of death and, just where the hair in his neck ends, half of a spider web tattoo.

"Keith! Keith!" She calls his name a few more times, like a random number of exclaims might just resurrect him. She keeps shouting until Austin pulls her away from the bannister and holds her close, shielding her from the gruesome view.

"He's gone, Allison," he shushes her, rubbing her hair as she presses her face in against his chest. Her wallowing sounds slow down and become more muffled, as she uses his shirt to burrow her face in. They stay like that for a while until Allison has completely calmed down. Austin knows he can't hide it from her any longer, it would be the right thing to tell her now.

"Allison, I've been keeping something from you. Something important. It's only fair that you know the truth about Keith," he says, taking a step back in order to look into her eyes. After debating for a second, weighing different ways of spilling the truth, he decides on the most direct one. "Keith was part of the drugs organisation."

Allison keeps his gaze, confusion shown on the blotched skin of her face. "What are you saying?" Austin is about to elaborate when her attitude shifts. Her eyebrows furrow, her lips purse and her fists clench. "My fiancé is dead and you're accusing him of something so horrible! What is wrong with you?"

"Your _what_?" He doesn't believe her for a second. She didn't say yes to his proposal and, yet, she claims that the man floating beneath them is her fiancé. He decides this is not the most important part of her comment. "It's not an accusation, it's true! We have proof!" He looks at Allison, who resembles a toddler in the middle of a temper tantrum right about now. "This is probably the result of an argument about the deal tomorrow. He was one of them."

"It wasn't him, don't you get it?" Allison is now begging, desperately trying to make him believe he is wrong. She burrows her face in her hands.

"Get what? There's nothing to _get_!" He continues. Each word seems to hit Ally like a punch in the gut as she's now hunched over, looking like she might collapse any second.

"He's harmless! You've got the wrong one!" She cries. Austin doesn't respond, sick of having to justify himself. Allison lowers herself to the grated platform they're standing on and lowers a few fingers through the holes, reaching out to the man beneath them. Her head hangs down in defeat, but then, it snaps up. Her eyes spit fire and she gets back up. "It's all your fault, it's your fault he's dead!"

"Allison," he tries to calm her down. Her unreasonable accusation hurts him, but he knows better than to take it personally. She's in a complete panic attack, different emotions washing over her at a rapid pace.

"Without you, he'd still be alive!" She yells, pointing down at Keith. She wipes the final few tears from the corner of her eyes. "I hate you! I wish it would've been you down there!" She whimpers and lowers her voice. "It should've been me down there." Turning around swiftly, she runs through the entrance of the ship and disappears from sight.

Once he'd recovered from the shock of her words, he did the only thing that seemed reasonable in the situation; he phoned Walter. He notices his hands are shaking as he looks up his contact.

"Lewis," he starts, unsure of how to bring the news, "Keith's dead."

Walter doesn't respond for a while. "What?"

"Strangulation as far as I can see. There's some trauma around the neck." Austin had wondered whether they were the first to have seen the body, but from the way Walter reacts, he reckons they are. If others had noticed the corpse, panic would've been evident to Walter, who had stayed onboard the whole day.

"Are you with him? Where are you?" From the background noise, Austin can make up that Walter's walking at a fast pace, his destiny still unknown.

"His body has been discarded in the water at the backside of the ship," he visualizes the situation, keeping his voice low. Passengers walking past him to board the ship nod friendly. Then, he realizes the how the event could've, and should've, been avoided as a whole. "I thought you were keeping an eye on him. You said you would."

Walter ignores the accusing tone in Austin's voice. "I was. I've been guarding his hallway since he entered his room two hours ago."

Austin subtly looks down again, not wanting to attract any attention to Keith. "The body looks fresh," he murmurs, "can't have happened longer than an hour ago."

"Jesus Christ," Walter curses. Austin doesn't say a thing. "Well, if you hadn't run off today, you could've helped me keep things under control."

"You told me to go!" Austin yells through his phone, remembering Walter's praising words about his recordings of Keith and the captain. People that had just stepped onboard look over their shoulders in surprise.

"We need to fix this," Walter sighs, leaving the accusation behind him.

"How?" Austins asks the obvious.

"If we report the body, police and media will be swarming the ship and I reckon the dealers won't stay around to see that happen." It's silent on the other side of the line for a while, like Walter is overthinking the situation some more. "Shit, they might already be leaving."

"I'll order to not let anyone off the ship," Austin says, knowing damn well it won't help the situation one bit. If the dealers wanted to leave the ship, they had done so right after they had disposed of the body and colleagues of them had been ordered to watch everyone going on land and report the slightest suspicion. Though, at this point, he felt like the least amount of contribution would sooth his weirdly aching conscience. By showing his badge in a quick gesture, the crew knows to take his demand seriously. "We need to track down where they are on the ship."

"Track who, Austin? Keith was our lead." Annoyance and stress make Walter's voice carve through Austin's self-esteem like knives.

"What about the captain?" Austin tries to win back lost approval.

"Impossible," Walter sighs, his patience running thin. "Captain Wendell has been on land all day. One of our men on location has been tailing him." He just let me know he's on his way back. It can't possibly have been him."

"That means he's not the leader," Austin concludes.

"We can't know for sure. Maybe he just didn't want his hands to get dirty." They were groping around in the dark now and they knew it. "We're fucked."

Austin thinks to himself for a while until an epiphany hits him. "Allison." He hears Walter's scoff on the other end of the line, but Austin is quick to justify himself. "Allison knows something and I can pull it out of her."

"Are you positive?" Walter checks, unsure of his abilities and his rationality around the girl.

"No," Austin admits, "but I can give it a shot. It's all we've got now."

"Fine," Walter gives in, "do you know where she is?"

"Somewhere secluded, I reckon," Austin presumes. "She saw Keith."

"What?" Austin moves his phone from his ear to not let the voice destroy his eardrum.

"She's furious at me, I'm not even sure if she's willing to talk," Austin adds, knowing very well he's not doing anything to increase Walter's faith.

"Terrific." Walter lets out a single, sarcastic laugh. "A girl in panic after seeing a corpse. That's exactly what we need to keep the news from spreading."

Anger builds up inside of Austin. "You know, she wouldn't do that. She's not a moron."

"Oh, really?" Walter snickers. "The Allison I know is impulsive enough." The retort that Walter _doesn't_ know Allison, not at all, almost slips off of his tongue until he realizes that he, also, doesn't, not at all. "But if you're right and she _does_ know more than she's told you, she might be on her way to the person responsible for this, in which case, she'll lead us-"

Austin finishes his thought, "Directly to the one in charge."

* * *

 _All set._

I loosen the knot of my tie, my hands itching to rip it off my neck and put it to good use.

 _After this oh-so delightful day with her little crush, this surprise might be a bit shocking. But it simply must be done._

 _In order to limit the risk of the past haunting this business, it is essential that I eliminate the entire team so I can start freshly._

I sniff as I pick up Walter's voice walking right past my room, the room he doesn't know the existence of.

 _If only I could get rid of those two nosey agents. Just for the sake of teaching the rest of them a lesson about minding their own business._

I take a deep breath, focussing on what really matters.

 _But, for now, the final puzzle piece has to be destroyed, before the puzzle itself can evaporate into thin air. Never to be seen again._

My chuckle is interrupted by three soft knocks on the door.

 _Right on schedule._

 _"_ Miss Dawson," I greet the girl, her face blank with submission while moving my hand towards my collar. "How was your day on land?

* * *

 **And so she arose from the dead once again. Sorry for another week wait! After two awesome weeks, karma decided she deserved something in return and broke my laptop. All is good, though! I'm a smart girl and saved everything online. Next week, I'll finish the final chapter and post everything on my normal schedule.**

 **Sorry for the shorty, a lot happened in one chapter and it needed to be cut off in this way to prepare for the big chapter next week. Any thoughts on this one?**

 **Love,**


	10. Chapter 10

After hanging up, Austin got on board and took some time to think. This was a time sensitive matter and it was essential he figured out exactly where Allison was headed. Something told him she might be in danger.

No matter how much it made his brain hurt, he kept digging and digging. It was the hardest riddle he ever had to solve; Who was Allison Dawson? After finding the answer to that question, he was one step closer to finding her location. So, he takes out his notepad and starts writing.

Allison Dawson. Receptionist and lead singer. Spends her free time... He didn't know. Most of her free time she had spent with him. He had no idea what she did for leisure before he met her. He draws a question mark after 'Leisure' and skips to the next line.

Allison Dawson. Intimate with Keith. Sister of Phil. He pauses. Not for a second had he realized just how narrow her social circle was. Never, she'd mentioned being in touch with anyone else on or off the ship. Her life revolved around the band. He underlines the last sentence.

Allison Dawson. Loves music. Loves people. Correction, loves _studying_ people. Loves messing with his head. He crosses that out. He must stay objective. Loves... He leaves it open for now.

Allison Dawson. Experiences mood swings. Shows attitude alterations. Refrains from talking about her past. Is co-dependent. Articulates disinterest in romantic relationships, though displays short moments of affection. He taps his bottom lip with the end of his pencil. He's hitting a dead end.

Allison Dawson. Wants... What does she want? That might be the hardest question to answer. She never specifically told him, so he'd have to read between the lines. He thinks back to the many conversations they had. What did she talk about? What subject did she keep circling back to? What was a dream, a desire she just couldn't help mentioning? A lead shows itself.

Allison Dawson, wants love, no matter how much she claims she doesn't. Allison Dawson, envies people who move on with their lives since she can't seem to do the same. Allison Dawson, wants things to stay the same. Allison Dawson, loves her brother.

Her brother. Phil. Throughout this whole week, there's one thing she succeeded into making clear to him, one thing that was absolutely, undoubtedly true; her love for her brother, her interest in his life, her envy for his progression. Austin writes vigorously, not wanting this possible trace to slip.

Her friend, her, more or less, partner was killed. She saw his body. She's in shock. Where does she go? To whom does she go? There was only one answer.

Closing his notepad confidently, he gets up. Taking out his phone out of habit, he's about to ring Walter when he stops his tracks. Allison trusts him, at least a little bit. She doesn't know Walter at all, let alone trust. No, to increase the odds of this to work, he must do this alone.

Now, to track down Allison, he only needs Phil's location. He thinks back to the night Phil confided in him and remembers the reason Phil ended the conversation. He checks the time. Fair chance that he was speaking to his fiancé on the phone right now while circling the ship's deck, as he told him he did daily. That's where he should find him and, therefore, Allison, too. There was no doubt Keith's killer was looking for her. And, since she was with Phil, she might put him at risk, also. He had to hurry.

* * *

The wind had picked up and helped the temperature drop a few degrees. Austin shivers, pulls his jacket tighter around his body, and moves his fringe out of his eyes. The deck was long and he wasn't quite sure where to start. He had this strange sensation that every second could count. After deciding on starting at the backside of the ship, since that's where the band's dressing room verges on, he begins his search.

Following the cold steel of the railing, he's careful not to make any noise. Though the sound of waves breaking fills the night, the lack of other noises creates a certain tension that Austin can feel in his veins. Every corner he turns, he expects a figure to appear. To grant him some kind of secure feeling, he keeps his hand on his holster. All of a sudden, he regrets the decision to refrain from notifying Walter of his plans. It's too late now, as he shouldn't talk or focus on anything other than where he's going.

He arrives at the very end of the ship and immediately recognizes the area. The partly transparent door leading to the dressing room on the right shows the room dark and abandoned. He remembers sitting there, viewing Keith and Allison standing outside. One thing differs from the image; where the couple had stood then, now appears to be a figure alone. Completely dressed in black and with their back turned to Austin, he could not tell their identity. One thing was apparent, though. Holding a bag with dozens of small packages, all wrapped very thoroughly, the person's intention was clear. The person is whistling a tune, a slow one, but still very unfitting for the situation.

"Drop the bag," Austin yells while aiming his gun at the figure. The body freezes, though it does not comply. Austin continues nevertheless, "Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly."

Austin hears a soft chuckle. The individual shakes their head slightly and moves to only follow one demand. As they turn around, very slowly, Austin notes certain things about the person. The below average height, the slim legs. That's when he manages to place the song they whistled. It was a nursery rhyme. Austin holds his breath as the figure finally faces him.

"Well, well, well," Allison cocks her head, still clutching the bag stubbornly, "If it isn't hotshot." She sighs in disappointment, a grin spoiling the fact that, in reality, she enjoys the moment. Her eyes are glazed over as if she's not fully present. "And to think I was _this_ close to getting away with it."

Austin's brain goes haywire. Everything he once believed was true, even the small things he had convinced himself of their purity had proven to be false. This new revelation stood directly opposed to the rest, which made him question his own eyes. But the evidence stood in front of him, laughing at him, making him feel more foolish than he had ever felt.

"This is," he stutters, the grasp on his pistol weakening, "this is not true." He shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts in order, but it's simply impossible. There she was, Allison Dawson, the person he had confided in and, simultaneously, the person he'd been looking for all week. Nothing was true, nothing she'd ever said, showed, had been even slightly genuine. He was played. With pleading eyes, he makes one final, desperate attempt. "Please be lying."

Allison laughs in response, maniacally. After a few seconds, she gives him a look, a look that a mother could give to her toddler. She looks ten years older, suddenly. Just then, there is no doubt in his mind that she was partly responsible for Keith's death. "Are you shocked, Austin?" She asks. "Are you?"

"I'm..." Austin can't speak, can't move. His body seems frozen. Even in his state, he could see that there were no things he could do, he could say that would fix this. He had messed up and there was no way to turn the tide.

"Cat got your tongue, boy?" She mocks his stutter before rolling her eyes. She checks the watch around her wrist and purses her lips. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd lower your gun so I can finish this," she says in an unimpressed tone, vaguely gesturing at her bag. Austin's eyes land on the pistol in his hand, having forgotten he was even holding it. Allison chuckles mockingly, "You're not actually planning on firing it anyway. If I'm not mistaken, you're not even allowed to."

She was right and Austin wasn't even surprised she knew this. She probably knew more about him than he knew about himself. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to stand tall, gripping his weapon tightly. "I will if I have to," he says, repressing the vibrations in his voice.

Allison smiles, her eyes scanning him openly like he's beneath her. "I hope you noticed how deliciously unthreatening that sounds."

"Why?" It's the only thing he can ask. It's the only thing he cares about, it's the only thing he might get an answer to.

"Why?" Allison repeats the question and laughs. Then, her face turns serious. "Why not? There's really no downside." For the first time, she takes her eyes off of Austin and stares in the distance. Austin could do something, try to overpower her, but he feels like the information she's about to give him outweighs that option. "You were completely right. My life," she starts, "it's a bit dull." She shrugs, studying her nails. Her pout turns into a grin. "Besides, the money is a big plus. Don't tell me you honestly thought I could afford all the dresses and jewellery with my mediocre band salary."

He thinks back to the dressing room, dozens of dresses with sparkles and glitter, boxes with jewellery, fancy looking shoes spread across the room. It makes sense.

"You said I could trust you." He can't help sounding betrayed, even if it makes him look weak.

"Funny thing about that expression," Allison says, a satisfied smile rested on her lips. "I said you could. I never implied that decision would be a wise one."

There is not a single aspect of Allison's behaviour, speech, or appearance that he recognizes. He knew Allison had a complicated personality, but it seems like she had transformed into a completely different person. Though, deep down, he knew better. This had always been a part of Allison, moreover, it was the _real_ Allison. The information he thought he collected about her seemed futile now. The person who _really_ mattered was the one standing in front of him.

"Who are you?" He'd asked her the same thing just a few hours ago and the meaning hadn't changed, though she responds in a different manner. While she'd avoided the question then, it seems to only boost her confidence now.

"I'm part of something bigger and stronger than you could ever imagine, Austin." She sounds powerful, her slight wide leg stance amplifying the signal, though Austin feels something is off. Even though everything pointed at Allison being in charge of leading the drugs operation, he didn't trust those leads. He'd been with her all day. She didn't kill Keith, at least not with her own hands. Wouldn't a leader want to handle things like that themselves, or, at least, be there to make sure it happened rightly? No matter how twisted Allison's identity was, the emotions she showed when finding Keith were real. He was sure of that more than anything, he sees now.

"You're not in charge," he says, making Allison raise her eyebrows in surprise. "You didn't kill Keith. Who do you work for?" She keeps her mouth shut, so he repeats himself, slightly raising his voice. "Who do you work for?"

Allison shakes her head. She doesn't even try to convince him otherwise. "I'm disappointed," she replies. Gesturing to herself, to the bag, to their surroundings, she looks at him with disbelief. "Isn't it obvious?"

"I want an answer," he persists. The fact that the answer might be right there, glowing bright red in front of him, yet he cannot see it, angers him. To urge her, he removes the gun safety, making the weapon ready to be utilized. Allison's eyes widen, but he can tell it's not because of his gun. "Now."

"Austin," Allison whispers and Austin is almost sure he recognizes the Allison he thought he knew in her voice. It makes him lose focus for a short second. You see, removing the gun safety releases a soft 'click', a sound that can be mistaken for many other noises. But, since he'd only heard the sound a second ago, the source of the repetition, now right next to his head, was unmistakable.

"I don't think so, boy," a voice speaks, resting the metal against his temple, "I think this is the part where you hand over your gun." Threatened by the gesture, he lowers his gun but holds it tight for now.

Austin can't move his head, forcing him to keep viewing Allison. Her eyes are not on him, rather focussing on the person holding him at gunpoint. He sees her nails digging into her pulse once again. Her powerful stance has disappeared, a submissive, weak posture having taken its place. She seems to be completely ignoring him, forgotten his presence, like the only person that mattered, was the one next to him. And that's when he realises it _was_ obvious. The answer was there all along.

"Phil," he whispers, more to himself. In response, Phil scoffs, pushing his head with the barrel.

"Keep packing, Sunny," he orders, in which Allison continues prepping the bag. For a second, Austin loses hope. He held no power over the situation. That was until he realized he was still holding a weapon, a weapon he was not allowed to use, though he _would_ use if he had to. It gave him control, even if it was a tiny bit, it might be enough to turn the scene around.

"No," he objects and aims his gun at Allison again. She stops her movements, her eyes pleading Phil, silently asking what to do next, like a dog waiting for a command. A dead silence arrives, in which no one is sure what is the best move until Phil speaks.

"Very well," he concludes, lowering his gun and Austin is hit with a wave of victory. He'd won the match, might even win the battle. But then, he's proven wrong, all with one simple movement. "We all know you're not even risking the possibility of hurting Sunny tonight, or ever for that matter." In a second, he turns his body and moves the gun until the barrel is pointed at his sister. His face shows no bluff and Austin is convinced he would fire it if it would mean he could get away with everything. The fear on Allison's face shows him he's not wrong. "Someone else might, though." He raises one eyebrow as he gives Austin a second chance. "Would you kindly reconsider my suggestion now?"

"You wouldn't shoot her," Austin attempts, though he knows the truth. Allison's hands are shaking.

"What's that?" Phil asks, his eyes wide with faked disbelief. "Do you question my conviction, agent?"

"She trusts you," he continues, the view of two pistols aiming at Allison sending aches to his brain.

"Please," Phil scoffs. "Of all people, Allison knows me best." With his weapon, he gestures at the girl. "And doesn't her face speak volumes?"

It did. She looked terrified. "She's your sister!"

"She's disposable," Phil shrugs. Austin knows it's true when Allison looks down, gulping. His efforts were futile. He lowers his arm and hands Phil his pistol. "There we go," he accepts, satisfied. He shoots a cold look towards Allison. "Keep going."

With a shock, Allison kneels down and zips up the bag filled with packages before opening one of the crates next to her and revealing two more bags. It makes Austin think how long they have been in there and how many there are. Phil has now walked towards her and is holding the gun to her temple like he had done with Austin. He raises himself up the railing and sits down, ignoring the danger of the fast-moving propellers just below him. Austin wonders if this man has any fears.

"Now, this is a bit awkward," Phil laughs as if he's not holding life and death in the palm of his hand. He's not even looking at Allison, though she could easily take his gun from him. Instead, she keeps working. Austin's chances are getting slimmer with every passing minute. Allison was under Phil's control now. "It's not every day that the person you love has a gun to her head, is it?"

Austin doesn't even argue with the statement. All energy has left his body. "How long have you been forcing her to be a part of this?"

Phil purses his lips. "'Forcing' is a strong word. I prefer the term encouraging." He hops off the railing and starts pacing the deck, his gun still aimed at Allison, though Austin feels like it's a needless gesture. She will oblige him, whatever the situation. "You see, there's an art to making people do anything you want. An art I happen to master. And you can't even imagine how influenceable kids are when you have the right attitude. Little Sunny was practically begging for endorsement, weren't you?" Phil chuckles joyfully. Using the barrel of his gun, he brushes the hair from Allison's face, Allison cowering in response. "And who was I to decline?

"It starts off small. Toys she loved that I made her throw away. Playdates I didn't approve of," he sums up casually like he was going over a grocery list. "She was so desperate for someone to tell her what to do, how to behave. And I was more than glad to take up that role," he speaks. "I couldn't let my father's business leave the family. And the blood that we share is not nearly thick enough to wash away that promise." Raising Allison's chin with the metal, he shoves it away right after. "Our mother was the only one that stood in the way of complete control." He shrugs lightly. "The only logical step was to pull out the plug."

Allison whimpers, so silently that Phil doesn't notice, but Austin does. From her reaction, he understands this was new information to her, too. Phil killed their mother. For a second, she meets his gaze. Her eyes are filled with so many emotions that Austin has trouble reading them all. Confusion, desperation, fear, anger, all mixed up in two glazed eyes that had lost all character of the girl he'd fallen for.

"After that, Allison was merely a body. A corpse without a soul, a little rag doll, if you will," Phil continues unknowingly. "And I've been waiting for the perfect moment to sacrifice her in order to finish what father started and finally make him proud." With the tip of the gun, he traces the side of Allison's face. She closes her eyes, her lip trembling, and inhales deeply. Austin knows it's now or never and reaches into his pocket. Phil seems plenty occupied with Allison for Austin to take a chance.

With his finger hovering over Walter's contact, Phil notices his movements, forgets about whatever he was planning to do to Allison and aims his gun at Austin. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Mission accomplished; the focus wasn't on Allison anymore. She was out of danger, momentarily. To extend that time period, he needed to take action. Desperation taking over, he taps on Walter's name. Phil runs over and slaps the phone out of his hand. The screen cracks as it hits the wooden floor. Phil lets his heel land on the device before picking it up and throwing it overboard.

Breathing heavily, he touches Austin's forehead with the gun. "You just made a huge mistake, agent."

"Lewis will be looking for me at this point," Austin speaks, reading a hint of panic in Phil's eyes. Things might turn around after all. Phil looks at him, probably thinking of the best possible scenario, in which he could escape with the batch. Austin reckons Allison wasn't that much of importance anymore, which worried him. Keeping her safe was a priority, at least to him. He needed to find a way to increase her survival rate, though he held no power over the next few moments. "One shot and the police will be swarming the ship."

Phil's eyebrows rise, a plan settling. He looks at Austin with a wicked smile. "You're right." Austin steps back frightened. "Goodnight, Austin."

He raises his weapon and, for a second, Austin thinks he might fire it into the air, for some reason. As Phil moves it down swiftly, the real plan is revealed. Just before the metal hits Austin's temple, he catches Allison's eyes. Her hands are covering her mouth and tears are rolling over her cheeks. He wishes he could comfort her one last time. A second later, his body bounces on the wooden deck, like a corpse without a soul, a rag doll, if you will.

* * *

 _The idiot almost ruined everything._

The icy wind makes my face hurt, but I keep staring forward stubbornly. I was smart enough to gather contacts in every city the ship passes. It took only one phone call for a speedboat to arrive ever so inconspicuously. Across from me, Allison is sitting, crouched, her gaze at the floor. Her eyes are still wet. I roll my eyes.

"Guess your expiration date has been postponed for a bit," I say to her, in which she raises her head. "You've got blondie to thank for that."

She stares back blandly. I take the time to study her. One hand is wrapped around her pulse. She might've shown some emotion tonight, but, behind her eyes, she was just as empty as always. Besides, I wouldn't have to put any more effort into controlling her soon. Then I notice something is missing.

"Where's the key?" Allison blinks once like my words don't reach her. I reach forward, grabbing her throat with one hand. "I said," I grit through my teeth, bringing her closer, "where is the key?"

Allison puts a hand on her chest, where her necklace once rested. Before she took it off to let her spirit be read. "Austin," she whispers.

"Speak!" I demand and tighten my grip.

"It's in his pocket," she chokes and coughs once I release her with a shove. "I forgot to put it back on." She touches her neck with trembling fingers.

"Imbecile!" Her cheek colours red in the shape of my hand and she cowers instantly. I shake my hand to get rid of the sting in my fingers. "Useless," I mutter while quickly sending a few text messages. I look back at the ship.

 _Guess we will meet again, agent Moon._

* * *

 **Now that we've got that covered, only a few more chapters left. Be a dear and tell me your thoughts?**

Sweetgirl2711 chapter 9

Thst stinks about Keith. Ally is confusing. Its the captain isnt it? **\- So close!**


	11. Chapter 11

Austin wasn't sure how much time passed when he was out, but he was awoken by Walter hastily firing questions at him like he wasn't talking to a man with his face pressed on wood. Over his panicked voice, he could hear sirens and people shouting. Collecting his strength, he pushes himself up ever so slightly to grant himself the view of the rest of the deck. The sight didn't surprise him; Allison and Phil were nowhere to be seen. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to block out the sounds in the distance, ignore the pounding of his head and focus on Walter's voice.

At that exact moment, Walter exchanges his nonstop flow of questions for a single yelled remark. "Fuck, Austin, you're bleeding!"

Austin turns his head again to look down and spots a small puddle of thick, dark liquid, slowly making its way through the grooves of the splintering, wooden planks. Once he touches his temple carefully, tracing the source of the blood, the memory of Phil's handgun coming at him fast returns in a flash. Or had he used _his_ gun? He couldn't quite remember.

"What time is it?" He mumbles, moving to sit up straight. Walter takes his elbow to assist him and lowers himself, too.

The man checks his watch and answers, "Twelve thirty. What the hell happened here?" Austin takes a moment before answering the question. Twelve thirty. Making a rough estimation of the length of the conversation with Phil, he reckons he's been unconscious for about 15 minutes, maybe even 20. Nevertheless, long enough for the two to flee the scene, one way or another. He touches his head once more, trying to sooth the pain before he opens his mouth to speak. He's being cut off by Walter. "You might need stitches for that. Let's get you patched up first, you can explain later."

Supported by his colleague, he gets up slowly. Still dizzy, he closes his eyes as he's being dragged forward. There's only one thing that haunts his thoughts. "I fucked up, Walter."

* * *

"And that's when Phil knocked me out. They must've had some way to get off the ship unnoticed." Austin takes the sterilized gauze from the nurse and holds it against his wound. Stitches had appeared to be unnecessary, though he'd received a blanket for the 'shock'. He'd only used it because the temperature had dropped to nearly freezing. While he was being treated by a medical assistant in the back of an ambulance, he'd walked Walter through the night, releasing as many accurate details he managed to remember.

"Who would've thought, little Allison Dawson," Keith exhales, his voice filled with disbelief and a tad of fascination. He stays silent for a while, observing Austin like he's considering spilling something. Austin stares back, an eyebrow raised in anticipation. Walter speaks, eventually, "You're an idiot for going there alone."

"You heard what I told you, I made a valid estimation of increased chances if I'd go alone." He makes sure to voice the irritation that's bubbling up inside of him. "And you know I was right, you might've done the same thing in my situation."

"But I wasn't! And I don't think I would've!" Walter raises his voice in a demeaning manner. "This was a hazardous situation, Austin, and you completely ignored the risks!"

Austin's jaw falls. He gets up, ignoring the throbbing sensation on the side of his head. "Well, I'm sick of you treating me like a child! I've been working my ass off this week."

"The only reason I'm treating you like a child is because you're acting like one." The accusation had faded from Walter's speech and Austin swears he sees desperation in his eyes. It makes his temper even shorter. "This was your first official case and, correct me if I'm wrong, _you_ decided it would be a great plan to sleep with the fucking antagonist! Tell me, was that a calculated move or a happy accident?"

Austin breathes in, ready to quickfire a response to this unfair statement, when they're interrupted by a car entering the scene, coming to a stop right before the brightly yellow barricade tape. Seeming in a hurry, the man gets out only a second later and moves himself under the tape, showing a badge to cops guarding the area. The moment he spots the two agents, he raises his hand, ordering them to come over. Austin hadn't seen his dad for just a week, though it seems like forever.

Walter nods, turning to Austin before he walks off. "Your father was confident in your abilities, Austin. I'm not going to be the one to break the news, I think we can agree that he should know."

"Don't worry about it," he hisses through his teeth as Walter doesn't bother waiting for him. He's about to follow when his phone rings. He signals to his father that it will only be just a minute. The number is British, though he has no resurrection of the combination whatsoever. He picks up and says his name, trying to not let his bad mood sound through.

"Aus-Austin?" He almost drops his phone. That voice. Though he'd hear her speak only an hour ago, it had sounded nothing like this. Nevertheless, it was unmistakable. She sounded weak like the air had been pulled out of her lungs.

"Allison?" The memory of her in that hoodie, revealing that she'd lied to him all along is wiped away by his voice coming from her mouth. In reality, he wasn't sure whether he could blame her for what she'd done. He hadn't had time to think it over, to decide just how much she could help how everything turned out. He grips the device with two hands, trying to pull her out of it somehow. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

Instead of her response, a soft rustle is heard before the voice changes. "Guess who?" The question sounded like a drawn-out sing-song, making filling Austin with cold-blooded rage.

"Phil, what did you do to her." He didn't make it sound like a question, he demanded an answer. Phil just chuckled in response, though.

"She's still breathing," he says calmly and continues after a few seconds, "for now, at least." Austin makes an unconscious growling sound. Now that he knew everything Phil was capable of, there were no boundaries to how he much could hurt Allison. "And I'll give you the opportunity to extend that period, as long as you follow my directions."

"I'm listening," he mutters, though paying close attention to everything he could pick up on the other side of the line.

Phil snickers, knowing just how much control he was exercising over him. "You have something that belongs to me." Austin takes a second to think. What could he be aiming at? Had Allison passed something to him without him knowing? Something that would guarantee them to meet again? He wonders whether this is a legitimate option or just his own feelings creating an imaginative scenario.

He sticks his free hand in the pocket of his jacket and is met with a small metal object. "Does anything come to mind yet?" Phil asks as Austin grabs hold of the chain and lifts it from his pocket. It's Allison's necklace. The fact that she had forgotten about it and gave it to him accidentally, blows his theory. It also gives Phil even more reason to punish her for it, he realizes as curses. He studies the medallion. What about this accessory could be of use for Phil?

"What's its purpose?" He asks casually, hoping Phil might play dumb for just a second.

Phil laughs at his attempt. "Oh, agent, you can be quite humorous." He takes a second to regain his composure. "Expect a call at noon tomorrow. Pick up or I'll blow her brains out." He ends the call in the same tone of voice he started it. "Till then!"

Austin was afraid of few things, but, even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, disappointing his father was one of them. He found a clever way to avoid facing the inevitable by giving him the objective summary of the evening and the phone call, cleverly leaving out each and every detail between him and Allison. He wasn't lying, he simply didn't mention certain aspects that didn't particularly contribute to the case. It was the professional thing to do. It's what his father expected of him.

Still, he was quite certain his dad had heard the full story anyway. That is, Walter's version which made crystal clear who was the source at the same time. It showed in looks he threw his way, eyes full of confusion and maybe even disappointment. He wasn't sure, he couldn't answer the gaze for long enough to be certain. Still, it hurt.

* * *

The next day arrived and, being the most informed about the person they would be speaking with, Austin did not stray from his father's side for a second. He'd be in charge of the meeting like he was in charge of everything else. Austin was nervous. If an opportunity would present itself to talk to Allison, he was going to be right there to grasp it. She sounded hurt on the phone the night before and he was sure that Phil wouldn't scare away from physical abuse. He betted that Phil was the one who planted a cigarette on her thigh and there was no doubt he was capable of much worse.

"One hour till show time," Chief Moon speaks, checking his watch. He looks around the room. A handful of men were setting up machines in silence. Though no one spoke it out loud, the tension in the room was sensible. This was a big deal. One phone conversation would determine not only how the mission was going to end, but also the faith of Phil's team, including Allison's life. His father is standing right next to him, though he doesn't direct his speech towards him or anyone in particular. "We have all the equipment to trace the call. This can't go wrong."

Austin knew what he meant. Translation: This shouldn't go wrong. Exact translation: Don't fuck this up.

Trying to clear the slight unease between him and his dad, Austin strikes up a conversation. "So, what do you want me to say?"

"Nothing," the man says, still looking everywhere except at Austin, "You're not saying a thing."

"What?" Austin checks whether he heard it right because he can't imagine he has. When his dad stays silent, giving him a hollow look, his jaw falls. "He wants to talk to me specifically. That's his only demand!"

"Exactly." The Chief grabs a chair and lowers himself in it, slowly. "If we give into that, we're letting him be in charge. We've got the key and, with that, the power."

Austin has to restrain himself from raising his voice and showing disrespect. "He's the one with a human life he's willing to end whenever he pleases!"

"She's part of the team, Moon." His father, in turn, is as calm as ever. "She'll be fine."

Allison was in danger and his dad didn't seem to care. It felt like he had her wellbeing in the palm of his hand. He knows he must do everything within his power to turn this around. "With all due respect, I know Phil better than you do. I think I'm more capable of-"

"I'm sorry, have I given you the idea that this is negotiable?" He gives him a look that says all. Austin exhales, tightening his jaw, but he shakes his head in defeat. He knows better than to continue this discussion. The two choices were battling in his brain, fighting to be priority. His doubt is interrupted by his phone ringing, making the whole room look at him in shock. The chief furrows his eyebrows in anger, getting out of his chair. "You said you would make sure you wouldn't receive any calls today."

"I did!" He defends himself, reaching out to touch the phone in front of him which is already hooked up to a machine. His hand is slapped away by his father, who takes a look at the screen himself.

"It's blocked," he concludes, irritation in his voice. "Must be Phil."

"Why is he early?" Austin asks, checking his watch, though he knows. His dad was wrong; they were never in control. Phil held the power, he always had and he would always be two steps ahead to guarantee he would maintain it. In a moment where Allison's safety screams just a little louder than the importance of obeying his father, Austin speaks, "I'm picking up."

"We're not set up yet." He holds Austin back, making sure to make his words sound somewhat threatening. It is not enough to drown out his worry for Allison, though, as the chance of her being on the other end of the line makes her feel closer than ever. He's itching to shove his dad's hand away and snatch the phone right off the table.

"I have to!" His loud voice shocks the rest of the room. His father simply raises his eyebrows. It's not exactly an encouragement to continue, but it's also not the opposite, so he decides to take it. "You know what he said," he reminds the chief. 'Pick up or I'll blow her brains out' had been on replay in his head ever since last night. The phone keeps ringing and he knows it'll go to voicemail in no-time. It's ever so subtle, but the chief gives him a curt nod. Not wasting any more time, he picks up.

"You should know better than to leave me waiting, Austin." Before Austin can say anything, Phil speaks, his voice low and menacing. Austin and his father exchange a look. "Who knows what would've happened."

As if the chief knows Austin is about to answer, he holds up his hand and says, "You're early. This isn't what you told us."

"It's just a measure I had to take in order to stay hidden." Austin can imagine Phil shrugging. He wonders if Allison is with him. "And it worked, didn't it?" Austin looks at the people whose task was cut short by Phil's clever move. Their efforts remained futile, as the machines were too late to detect Phil's location. Phil sighs contently, clearly satisfied that his plan worked. "Now," he says, "I want to talk to Austin."

Austin glances at his dad, who seems in deep thought. His worry about Allison must be sensible by now, as the man sighs deeply before demanding, "I need to know if the girl is okay."

A silence arrives. Austin tries to control his breath before receiving a stern look from his father. Then, Phil chuckles softly. "I'm sorry, didn't I make myself clear? I called Austin." With every word he speaks, his voice gets louder. "And if he doesn't speak within ten seconds, things might get a bit ugly here." Before he knows, Phil is counting down dangerously fast. He shoots his dad a desperate look, in which he simply mouths 'no'.

At number five, he starts biting his nails in order to stop himself from making a sound. His breath gets faster and faster while his father shakes his head again. It was one of the times when he hated the stubbornness that ran in the family. Chief Moon didn't seem too keen on giving up his pride anytime soon, even if it put someone in danger.

After number four, Phil pauses. "Do you want to do the last three, sis?" Austin holds his breath, awaiting the next sound.

"Thr-," Allison sobs, her word cut off by a cough, like speaking required more breath than she had in her lungs. She gasps, trying to gather enough oxygen to continue. Austin looks at his boss once more. His arms are crossed as he stares at the mobile phone. Before Allison can stammer the next figure, he gives Austin a nod.

"No!" Austin yells right after and Allison's heavy breathing disappears.

"You sure took your time," Phil says and Austin sighs, a tiny amount of stress leaving his body. "Scared the hell out of your girl, I can tell you."

"Is Allison alright?"

"Alright," Phil repeats like he's pondering the term. "She's got a pulse." The obvious avoidance of mentioning her overall state aimed at a likely possibility that she was far from alright. He had no time contemplate any further, as Phil continues, "Enough about her. I'm assuming what belongs to me is still in your possession."

"I've got Allison's locket right here." He holds up the necklace as he studies it again. He still hadn't found its purpose as he wasn't allowed to investigate, his dad being afraid that a certain button or action could set off something. It was unlikely, but they wouldn't take any risks.

"Wonderful," Phil sings, "Now, I think we can agree that you will follow whatever instruction I give you."

"What makes you so sure?" Austin asks. The room is dead silent and even his dad doesn't give him any guidance, rather giving him room to lead the conversation. The trust boosts his confidence.

"Oh, Austin," he laughs," we both have something that the other desires to have back. Both these things are fragile, valuable." He pauses, snickering ominously. "To some at least." Austin bares his teeth unconsciously. "It would be a shame if one of them would get damaged, hurt. Maybe lost even, if not looked after properly." Austin runs a hand through his hair, the endless possibilities of Phil getting rid of Allison in some way, only out of spite or to get with Austin, haunting his thoughts. "We wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?"

"No," Austin grunts.

"Perfect! Then, I believe we have come to an agreement." Phil seems overly content, an attitude that in no way fits his newly revealed character. It makes Austin nauseous. "I will text you an address. Be there, tomorrow at three. Make sure you're alone if you want to keep her alive."

"Should I expect you to be as early as today?" Austin can't help the sass in his voice and one look at his father tells him he's not thrilled about it. Phil simply laughs. Austin knows the conversation is reaching its ending and knows he must make the most of it. "Your locket is in perfect condition. If Allison isn't, then you haven't kept your word." Phil doesn't reply, at least not to the comment.

"Goodnight, agent Moon."

* * *

 _I finally did it._

 _I took me all night, but I managed to steal every bit of free will that was still left in that tiny, weak body._

I stare down at her. As she sits there, lifelessly, her hands tied behind her back and hair flatly covering her face, I almost pity her.

 _I swear I could see the final piece of soul escape from her mouth at the very end._

I rub my hands on my jeans, watching my handprint in faded cherry red on her cheek.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I guess you'll finally serve a purpose after all." I stroke her hair, pushing her head away roughly once I notice the grease covering it.

 _Disgusting._

I remind myself to have her wash up before the meeting. She must look presentable, at least a bit.

I bring my face close to her ear. "Remember who you were on the ship." She shows no sign of acknowledging his words, but he knows she's heard him loud and clear. "You're going to play the same careless, yet insecure little girl. You will do whatever I tell you. And you will not even think about abandoning the script." There's a silver lining to this all. For the first time, I didn't have to hide her punishments. I could go all out and, I must admit, the colours suit her eyes beautifully. With a tug of her hair, I pull her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze.

Her eyes widen, but I can see it. They're calm. They're spiritless. I smile.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

 **The response I got from the last chapter was overwhelming. I'm so thankful for all your enthusiastic reviews! I'm glad the buildup was exciting enough for you. Those reviews are what I do it for, truthfully.**

L awesome 18 chapter 10

Oh my gosh...I can't believe it  
I thought there was something suspicious about Phil...This Chapter left me in a whirlwind...I just want to find out everything...Can't wait for the next Chapter...Great Job. **\- Thank you! Hope you enjoyed this one!**

unreal zebrachapter 10

so I finally caught up with this and oh my goodness.  
I had a suspicious feeling about Phil, but at the same time I was like "nahh" but I WAS RIGHT OH MY GOSH! THIS WAS SUCH A PLOT TWIST  
This whole story is so intriguing and captivating and I cannot wait to read the next chapter, I am absolutely enthralled by your writing! :D **\- Thank you so much for giving it a chance and your time. This review was absolutely heartwarming and I hope I can make the rest of the story as satisfying as this chapter!**

Slinky Flower the Lovatic chapter 10

No words can articulate my reaction to this chapter except for maybe I'M IN SHOCK and WHAT IN THE HECK JUST HAPPENED!

Also Austin BETTER NOT BE DEAD. **\- Hahaha, not dead, thankfully. Hope the shock didn't confuse you too much! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

"'re you ready?" Walter asks. It's the same thing he asked in the cab, precisely a week ago. It seems like a lifetime. Austin tries to detect anything in his voice that can give away his attitude towards what Austin's about to undergo, but there's nothing. No worry, no indifference. It's like he does his best to remain objective, to keep his distance. He's not sure what to think of it.

"Sure." They're sitting in the company's van. He had just been wired, invisible to the naked eye, so their conversation could be followed from a distance. They'd also hacked the café's security cameras to keep an eye in sight. This was not only beneficial in that way, it also meant that Phil couldn't do the same. It was one thing they had that Phil didn't, but it meant everything.

Walter stares at his hands. "If I knew you'd be pulled into this so easily, that this would happen, I never would've agreed to your father's plan," he admits. "I should've known you weren't ready."

In the past, this might've angered Austin. It wasn't the first time that Walter had questioned his capabilities, but it didn't quite come across the same as other occasions. He seems regretful. They had grown this week, both of them. Austin can't find himself to get mad at the comment. He nods.

"I'm sorry for making such a mess," he mutters, collecting enough courage to look him in the eye. "And thanks for sticking with me through it all, for staying the reasonable one, I guess."

"You're the only one who can do this, you know," Walter voices, "I mean, not to scare you, but..."

"I know," he replies, nodding with a brave smile. The pressure was building and the weight on his shoulders seemed to be growing with the second.

"No, I mean," he quickly continues, "you _can_ do this. I know you can." Austin doesn't bother hiding the surprised expression on his face. "She's not a lost cause, I'm sure of it. I don't know what you did this week, but it made her question her devotion to her brother. That can't just disappear. There's still a chance, there's a way. And you're it."

"I'll do my best." Austin never thought he'd hear this from his colleague. He smiles unknowingly. He knows Walter wouldn't just say this. If _he_ could see it, it might not be just his imagination. Maybe it's true, maybe he could save her after all. Maybe he could _do_ this.

"You'd better," the man says, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"I'd better go," Austin concludes. It's two forty-five. Walter nods and Austin exits the car. There, he finds his father.

"Austin," he formally greets him and Austin nods in response. "You know the plan."

"Stall time and keep your focus on the girl. Keep the locket in your possession at all time. Lead the conversation to a deal that is beneficial to us," Austin repeats his father's words flatly. His father says nothing in response. Instead, he stares at the café Austin's about to enter.

"Be careful in there, alright?" He says, fiddling with the cuff on his sleeve. His usually reserved posture was nowhere to be found.

"Yes, sir." Austin decides not to adapt and sticks to his normal corporate behaviour around his dad. In response, the man sighs.

"Austin," he starts, "just... I'm sorry that you're in this position."

"It's not your fault," Austin assures him, but his father shakes his head.

"I talked to your mother." Austin freezes. He hadn't even thought of her. Here he was, in a life-threatening situation, and he hadn't even bothered to fill her in. He feels awful. This whole assignment had pulled him into a world that seemed so far from reality that he'd completely lost touch with everything and everyone off the ship. He feels himself getting dizzy. "She wanted me to tell you that she loves you."

"How much did you tell her?" He coughs to get rid of the lump in his throat. It's the first time in months he's thought of her and he realizes he craves her touch more than anything. He'd always been closer to her than to his father, ironically.

"Not much. It's all classified. I just thought she deserved to know about your situation," his dad shrugs and Austin forces a smile. "I figured you'd want her to know, too."

"Thank you," Austin says and hesitates, considering what title is appropriate for the conversation, "dad."

He nods, looking down for a second before speaking, "And, I know you'd rather have your mother tell you this, but you should know I'm proud of you, Austin." He can tell his father struggles with this as he avoids his gaze. It's easy to imagine why, he can't remember the last time they had an honest, emotional conversation like this one. His father shuffles his feet awkwardly before adding, "And I love you."

Austin takes a deep breath. After looking at each other for a few seconds, they step forward simultaneously and embrace tightly. Austin blinks a few times to get rid of upwelling tears. At the moment, he feels young and vulnerable.

"I'm scared, dad," he admits, whispering in a flash of insecurity. His father pulls him closer.

"It's alright, son," he says, "I believe in you."

* * *

Only a few minutes later, Austin has regained his cool and walks into the café. Shaking off his nerves, he wipes the past few minutes from his mind. He must focus. The atmosphere makes him think of Starbucks, though the interior is warmer and cosier. The smell of coffee is present, but not overwhelming.

It's busy, but not busier than he'd expected a café to be on a Thursday afternoon. Students had hoarded one-person booths nearby plugs and were sipping cheap coffee while rapidly typing away on their laptops. Groups of friends had planted their handbags next to coffee tables and were stranded on the sofas surrounding them, taking aesthetic photos of their orders. The counters display a range of cakes and pastries.

He stands still for a few seconds at the entrance. He's not even sure what to look for, _who_ to look for. Secretly, he's hoping to spot waves of chestnut and, after a few seconds, he does. He tries to control his breathing, though he feels exhilaration flowing through his blood at the sight. Just from the back of her head, he can't make up how she is physically. She's semi-slouched in her seat, picking at her nails as she looks out the window. She's wearing the same clothes as the night he last saw her. He wonders if she changed at all. Slowly, he makes his way over to her.

With every step, his heart seems to pound farther out of his chest. His feet feel like lead and he can't estimate whether his footsteps announce his arrival. If they do, she doesn't bother looking up, not even when he appears at her table. He awkwardly stays put, unsure whether he's allowed to sit down. He wonders whether she even notices he's there and is about to say her name when his father impatiently tells him to sit through the microphone in his ear. He complies.

"Allison," he says after she still refuses to look at him. For a minute, he feels like all his attempts will remain futile, but, then, she moves. Ever so slowly, she moves her head until she is looking him straight in the eye. Her gaze is challenging, knowing, amused. She crosses her arms in front of her chest and sits back. Her posture reminds him of the day they met, when they spoke on the top deck. Her attitude is complete, spotless, except for one thing. The side of her face that was turned away from him at first shows colours of bruises. Blue, green, purple, red, it's like a palette has spilled on her skin.

"Did Phil do that?" He asks, leaning forward. The area around her left eye looks like a shadow is cast over it. Blue and green shades fight for the upper hand and her lid is slightly swollen. Her cheekbone is painted with a dark red and marks on her jaw match the overall colour palette. Ignoring her sudden cautious look, he brings his hand close to her face, inspecting her skin. Swiftly, she turns her head, making him retreat.

"Missed touching me that badly, huh?" She scoffs, returning to her original arrogance. "Glad to see I've made an impression on you. Though, God knows that wasn't a challenge to begin with." She rolls her eyes. It was easy to say this was how she behaved on the ship and he almost just goes with it. But, it's not quite. It's more. The role she played, the character she envisioned, the words she spoke, the look she shot him. It was everything he knew and _more._ It's like she had nothing to lose, nothing to hide. Nothing to pretend.

"What the hell has that asshole done to you?" He balls his fist on the table. Her behaviour shows there's something terribly wrong and he's absolutely sure he's the only one who can tell. To Walter, to his father, she acts the same as before. He sees his odds declining rapidly and runs a hand through his hair.

"That's my brother you're talking about and there's no 'he'," she hisses, looking genuinely defensive, "we're a team.

"You can't convince me _that_ was consensual," Austin argues, nodding at her face. He waits, curious to see how she'll dig herself out of this one. She doesn't grant him the pleasure as she changes the subject.

"Less talk about me," she smirks, "more talk about the locket." Her sentences seem to contain short pauses every now and then.

"No," he barks and she leans backwards in surprise, "Phil and I had a deal," he hisses, "You and the locket would remain undamaged."

"There was no deal." She narrows her eyes and smiles knowingly. "There were orders. Which you followed very willingly up until now." She waits for a second before continuing and then Austin understands. Her lines are being fed to her. Phil was controlling her once more. She plays with a curl while looking at him from under her eyelashes. "Things can still go wrong, Austin."

"I want to talk to Allison," he demands and Allison laughs in mockery.

"Are you blind?" She narrows her eyes in distrust. "You are talking to me."

"No, I'm talking to Phil," Austin persists, following her facial movements, "I'm hearing his words, his voice." Allison's hand moves to her ear unconsciously, proving his suspicion of wearing an earpiece, like the one he was using. "I want to hear yours."

Allison purses her lips. He wonders if Phil told her she should stay silent or whether he's not saying anything himself. Either way, the girl doesn't seem to be planning on speaking on own initiative. Austin waits patiently, though his father is not as tolerant. He urgently pushes him to keep the conversation going. Then, like it's a sign, certain pieces of information fit together and a plan rises from the fog in his head.

"You know what?" Allison's eyes wide shortly, surprised by his change in voice. "Fine. I'll give you the locket." Her jaw drops but quickly picks up her act again. She's about to speak, probably mocking his sudden, spineless surrender when Austin cuts her off. "But first we talk some more. Seems like a fair deal, doesn't it?"

Allison picks up on the ambiguous comment and raises an eyebrow, a gesture just for him to see. This only fuels his confidence. Thing is, the signs Allison had been sending made him presume that Phil could only hear them. It was true that his father's team had made it impossible for Phil to use the café's cameras and, if he could see them at all, he was watching them from a distance. Once he noticed the menu blocking a part of the table, he knew he had to take his chance.

Grabbing one of the menus, he opens it, hereby shielding his half of the table. Allison's eyes follow his movements and she sends a look of confusion while still keeping her overall body language cold and distant. Thinking back to how Allison told him the story of her best friend, he remembers how she'd taught her sign language and prays it hadn't been a lie. Figuring how untrue she'd been to him, it's a gamble, but it's one he must play. Moving his hands, he draws her attention to them.

 _Talk to me_ , he signs. Allison draws a breath and covers it up with a cough. She's hesitant, he can tell. If she'd respond, she'd be taking a risk going against Phil's orders. But that's exactly what Austin wants. It would assure him that, even after all that happened, there was still a hint of the old Allison left. And that was all he needed to know.

"What do you want to discuss?" Allison responds to the vocal question Austin raised before and he's about to accept his failed attempt when Allison leans forward. Her arms lean on the edge of the table in an intimidating manner, but he soon notices her real motive for the motion. Her hands are hidden behind the menu rack on their table. She signs back, _stop it, please_.

Austin struggles not to let a victorious smile slip through and ignores his father's question on what the _hell_ he's doing. "So, this was all an act?" He asks, while signing, _we can help you leave safely_ , "All of it?"

"All of it," she confirms. She's now completely abandoned any caution about her facial expressions and Austin knows for sure Phil is watching them from a far enough distance to not notice. _I can't_ , she signs. Her breathing had sped up slightly, though he presumes Phil doesn't notice. It's logical; it's the first time she's gone behind Phil's back since their time on the ship. "I'm surprised it took you this long to draw that conclusion." Her voice is still in character and Austin releases a breath. She was still holding up, though he wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up the act.

"Where did you learn to act like that?" He refuses to give up, no matter how hopeless their signed conversation is looking. He must convince her to cooperate. If he'd fail to keep his promise, to save her from her toxic environment, he couldn't forgive himself. _You deserve so much more than this life_ , he tries but knows how futile it is. His brain goes haywire, he can't decide what to say to convince her. All the hope he had earlier had abandoned him. Phil might actually win the war.

"It comes with the job, Austin." Allison sounds tired. He's not sure what Phil is telling her, but there's a fair chance that he's running out of patience and that he's telling Allison just that. It's no surprise, their actual conversation lacks a purpose, something Phil must've noticed by now. Her hands portray her lack of confidence. _Just let it go. Stop wasting your energy._ "Where is this going?" She asks and Austin can almost hear Phil's voice sounding through hers. The conversation is coming to an end and he's running out of time. He must think fast.

"I have one more question," Austin objects, though he doesn't, not yet. His mind is racing.

"Make it a good one," Allison responds, her eyes full of warning like she fears what is going to happen after. And then it hits him. She _does_ fear what is going to happen. She ignored Phil's orders to sneak around and talk to him in private. She might care about him, even after everything he did to her yesterday that caused her face to be wounded. He must use that to his advantage.

He takes a deep breath before signing, _I'm sorry_. "What's going to happen to me after this?"

Allison's face freezes. She listens but doesn't repeat Phil's words. Five seconds pass. Seven seconds. Ten seconds. Then, she cowers and whispers, "No." She cowers once more, a voice yelling in her ear, so loud Austin can pick up waves of sound. Squeezing her eyes shut, she takes her pulse in her hand. With trembling fingers, she presses her nails into her skin. It's the unconscious act she performed sometimes and now he knows what causes it. Phil's control hanging over her like a raincloud, reminding her of his power with each regulating drop.

Moving slowly, not making a sound, he moves forward in order not to seem suspicious. Somehow, he succeeds in making his hands hover hers, still shielded from sight. As he keeps his eyes on her face, still covered in pain, he takes her hands, guiding them away from each other and preventing her from implicating any more hurt on herself. Her eyes snap open, view their hands and draws a shaky breath. She waits, but no comment on it comes from Phil. He still can't see and fails to suspect. Austin's dad, in turn, _had_ noticed but decided to keep his comment to himself. She pulls back.

"Well," she finally repeats Phil's words, her voice fragile with inevitable obligation, "you'll just have to find out for yourself." Allison gulps and Austin's shoulders fall. He was not going to walk out of this café in one piece and Phil had just told Allison in much detail. A tear escapes from her left eye, running over her coloured cheekbone to her jaw.

His posture grows weak. He looks around. The rest of the café looked calm, orderly like a man didn't just found out he had minutes left to live. The fake sunflower was standing ignorantly on their table. His father was speaking to him, but it didn't quite get through. Allison was still eying him up, Phil quietly observing from afar. Austin's next moves would be crucial to what would happen next. Not quite comprehending, he feels himself raising his hand.

"What are you doing?" Allison hisses. He can't hear whether these were her words or Phil's, but it didn't matter. He had an idea. No, he had a final shot.

"Just ordering something to drink," he casually answers while signing, _I'm not giving up this easily_. He had noticed something when looking around hazily. No other booth had the plant they had, which meant that Allison brought it. It might be a bomb, he can't deny it crossed his mind, but it could very well be something else. If he was right, it could mean there was still a chance for him.

"I don't know what you have planned, but you will give me the locket," Allison threatens, her voice still as believable as her eyes weary. "You might not have noticed, but you're surrounded by a lot of human lives that can be ended very quickly." Allison falls silent like she has trouble repeating the following sentence. Then, she continues very slowly. "Starting with the one sitting in front of you."

A waitress delivers Austin's ice water and he understands he must make a decision now. Allison looks like she's on the verge of breaking down, which would not only jeopardize Austin's life but her own, too. Taking a final look at the sunflower, he decides to take action. _Bomb?_ He signs and Allison forgets her misery for a second, looking at him in confusion. That's all the confirmation he needs. With a movement of the hand, he knocks over his glass. The water spills over the table, but, most importantly, the flower. A loud beep sounds and Allison removes the earpiece in a hasty manner and throws it on the table, surprised by the beep that pierced through her ear.

Austin was right. The flower contained a microphone Phil placed in order to hear not only Allison but also Austin's words loud and clear. And now, that machine was gone.

"What did you do?" Allison asks distressed. She looks around, her connection with Phil cut completely for the first time in God knows how long, like a lifeline that's pulled out of her system. She's pale, looking like she's about to faint. Her breathing speeds up and only now Austin realizes the flaw in his plan. He's not sure whether it will still work, but he must try.

"I want to help you, but in order to do that, I need you to be honest," Austin says, knowing time is running thin. Once Phil realizes Allison can't hear him anymore, he'll take measures. "Can you do that now?"

"I don't want your help!" She's still shaking, looking around with worried eyes, scared Phil might come running through the door at any second. She's still not caving in, so Austin must go further. No matter how painful it might be to her. He must get to her very core in order to get through to her. It's his last straw.

"You hurt yourself whenever Phil reminds you of the power he performs over you. It's a habit, a way to numb the mental pain he inflicts upon you," Austin spews. Allison opens her mouth to respond, but Austin continues mercilessly. "He used you to distract me on the ship and you managed to, but that last night, the urge to kiss me was stronger than anything you'd ever experienced before. And that scared you."

"Stop," Allison begs. A feeling tells him he's heading in the right direction, so he proceeds.

"Phil never told you he killed your mother, did he? You hate him, I know you do. It's why he hasn't been able to completely control you after you found out." He looks at Allison and, instead of someone that is broken down by her brother, he sees how strong and free she was in Deal. How she could've been if it hadn't been by Phil's influences and he knows, "I'm in love with you, Alls."

"Stop!" She exclaims desperately, her hands in her hair, pulling like she can remove his words from her brain. He has no time to feel hurt by her response. "Stop talking!" Austin is breathing heavily, the continued stream of words pulling the oxygen from his lungs. He got through, but was it enough to change her mind, to have her let go of her old life with Phil and everything involved? Only time could tell and they were running out of it. He needed to know now. And the only impression Allison was making on him now, was the one of a very distressed girl, willing to do anything to make him shut up because every word he said was messing up the order and regulation Phil had planted in her head. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything that isn't a lie!" The only thing he wanted her to be right now, was truthful. Though, for her, that was a difficult task. A selfish part of him only cared about a truthful response to his confession, no, an accepting response. A mutual response. Allison's eyes get pulled to something outside the café and then drop. Austin is curious to what she saw but knows better than to lose her out of his sight. He has a faint sense that time was really running out now and that Allison knew very well. He was still looking at her intensely, waiting for her response. She looks defeated.

"It's too late now, Austin." As she speaks, a little red dot appears in the middle of her forehead. A laser, undoubtedly, and, still, it takes Austin a second to comprehend. Undeniably, Allison's view contained a man with a rifle hanging out of a window, its barrel pointed at her head. She takes a deep breath, a sob escaping from her throat, and concludes, "I'm sorry."

In a reflex, he stands up and moves the table forward, knocking Allison over. As she falls, a gunshot deafens the customers of the café. The window next to them breaks into a thousand pieces and the shards cover them both. Once he manages to open his eyes again, he's on the ground, too. Allison lies beneath him, her face unhurt. He exhales a laugh, tears appearing in his eyes with relief.

"Allison, you're okay," he says, a gleeful smile on his face, and he touches the side of her face, but she fails to respond. Her head is turned sideways, her eyes shut peacefully. A red stain on her chest expands in size rapidly.

* * *

 _Sad, it had to come to this. But that meeting showed that she cannot be trusted anymore._

I brush some dust off my white lab coat. I doubt the doctor misses it while he's knocked out in the broom closet.

 _I thought I had eliminated her emotional capabilities entirely, but the boy somehow managed to mess with her enough to make her appear to have vulnerabilities._

 _And I simply cannot have someone that is so undependable._

I walk straight to her room. No one stops me, no one even looks at me weirdly. I'm used to it by now. It's remarkable how much power, how much prestige a simple coat carries.

 _They really should improve the security of hospitals. This ought to be the easiest one I've faced._

I reach into the pocket and feel the soothing material of the syringe. It's cold and smooth against my palm and I smile.

 _Just a little cyanide and she'll be sleeping forever. Good thing I've got a whole can of this. Its undetectable nature and causation of a simple heart failure have saved me many bloody hands._

 _I do hate making a mess._

The door is opened on a crack. I don't bother knocking.

 _All alone. Just like mother. Can't deny I'm sensing a déjà vu._

Walking straight to the side of her bed, I don't waste time. She's pale, lifeless, vulnerable. She's never looked more beautiful to him. I take the syringe in one hand and take the tube that connects her hand to the drip feed in the other. The needle shines in the bright lightning.

 _Tell her 'hi' from me, would you, Sunny?_

* * *

 **This chapter was so important and I'm happy with how it turned out. Fun how you sometimes still manage to impress yourself.**

 **Today, I finally solved a little writer's block that kept me from finishing the epilogue. I'll write it next week and hopefully have it done without having to pause the updates.**

 **Stay tuned for the final (regular) chapter next week!**


	13. Chapter 13

_Walking straight to the side of her bed, I don't waste time. She's pale, lifeless, vulnerable. She's never looked more beautiful to him. I take the syringe in one hand and take the tube that connects her hand to the drip feed in the other. The needle shines in the bright lightning._

 _Tell her 'hi' from me, would you, Sunny?_

The needle enters the rubber tube like a knife penetrating flesh. The room is dead silent until a sound presents itself, a sound that had been heard much too often in the past few days. The hammer of a pistol is cocked, a clear warning to the person not holding the gun. Phil looks up, his jaw dropping in astonishment as he makes eye contact with the very person who he currently despised most of all.

"I'd advise you to cancel that action at once," Austin sternly speaks, holding the weapon tightly with both hands, not out of fear, but with confidence.

Phil sighs, the smirk on his face displaying a certain kind of sadness. "I guess this was to be expected." He gestures at Austin hopelessly, his eyes on the ground. The syringe still between his fingers makes the movement lose its message. "The head over heels-agent couldn't stay away. Even when Sunny told you so clearly you mean nothing to her." Austin bites his tongue to fight the bitter memory of merely a few hours ago. "Got a hard time getting that through that thick skull of yours, don't you?" Phil asks pitifully.

"I'm just doing my job," Austin mutters, his courage fading with each word Phil speaks. He wasn't. For all his father knows, a different agent was guarding Allison's room right now. Simply mentioning his dad's name, along with some words he knew he would use, he was able to take his shift. He'd been watching her from the chair in the corner for two hours before he saw the door opening. Somehow, he'd managed to turn his anger into absolute focus when he stood up and aimed his weapon at Phil. It was now or never.

Phil scoffs maliciously. "And we both know how well you executed your one task throughout this week." Austin controls himself by taking a deep breath, pushing the urge to move his finger to the trigger aside. "Little Allison wouldn't even be in this position if you'd just done your job." Though Phil hadn't let go of the syringe, like he has not completely surrendered yet, he brushes a lock out of Allison's face.

"We couldn't have anticipated your deceit," Austin defends himself and his team.

"Now, don't you undermine your abilities." Phil cocks his head before grinning. "You would've done just fine if you wouldn't have gotten stuck in her oh-so-clever cotton candy web." Austin moves his fingers against the grip nervously. Phil's words successfully throw him off. What does he mean by that? Phil continues, "It's truly regretful she's not reliable enough to stay a member of the team. It's too late now."

Austin had trouble deciding what part of Phil's talk he should respond to. "She's _not_ a member of the team," he objects. "You said so yourself."

Phil looks up like he's trying to find the best way to respond. "I did say so, didn't I?" Something about his tone makes Austin feel uneasy. It's sharp, controlling as if Austin walked right into a trap. "And you believed me just like that." He snaps his fingers at the last word, looking at the agent curiously. "Do you know why that is, agent?"

Austin keeps his lips sealed and the barrel aimed at Phil. Something tells him he's not going to like what Phil's about to say. He keeps his focus on the man, though his head is starting to spin.

"It's because you _wanted_ to," Phil says knowingly, pointing at him with the needle before sitting down beside his sister like he's about to tell a bedtime story. "There's nothing a human wants more than their desires, their suspicions being proven right." He cocks his head. "Isn't that also partly why you chose the job?" Austin gulps, knowing he has a point. He's stubborn and his dad had commented on it in combination with his occupation before. "I fed you the tragic story of poor Allison being manipulated through her past. I excused all her actions. I made her human again." Phil shrugs with a grin. "And you just ate it _up_."

Austin considers it for a moment. He doesn't trust Phil, not for a second, but could there be a chance that he was speaking the truth? After all, how often had Allison proven to be truthful to him anyway?

"Did you actually believe I would let an emotionally damaged little girl guard the key to my safe if I was in control?" Phil chuckles but holds up his hand as an apology. "I shouldn't judge, she did play her part very well. She always has."

He makes a good point, though it's not enough. "You abused her." It's curt, but Phil knows what he means.

"There's nothing a little makeup can't make you believe." With a wave of the hand, Phil disproves Austin's only backing argument and, with that, his final string of faith. His arms fall.

"I don't understand," Austin mutters while shaking his head.

"Hey, I get it." Phil's voice is soft. It sounds strange, yet comforting. "It's a lot to take in. The person who you considered perfect, suddenly overflowing with flaws. Everything she ever said, false. That must be rough."

"She isn't like that," he objects weakly. He wants to sit down, to close his eyes for a second and open them to find everything and everyone gone. He doesn't want to make the decision. The pressure is too much. He can't trust himself to do the right thing.

"Austin," Phil whispers. "I'm trying to help you see that these red flags, they were here all along." He looks at Allison. "It's just that those rose-coloured glasses she put on you just disguised them as normal ones."

Austin walks towards the end of the bed, his gun now pointed at the ground, its threat faded. He studies the girl who he thought he loved. She cannot defend herself, though there's no word that could disprove Phil's waterproof theory. Still, he cannot erase the time they spent together, when he thought he had finally gotten to her core. He never quite had. He looks at Phil. "Why does she have to die? If she was such a talented member of the team."

Phil shrugs like her death is an insignificant detail. "She was a fine colleague, truly, but I believe in a three-strikes law. And I think we can fairly state she has finished all hers. She simply can't handle the control. It's time she passes on the winning hand. It's what father would've wanted," Phil sighs as he gets up, making the task at hand seem like a tough one to him. "Now, if you'd let me." Though Austin doesn't say a word, Phil looks at him once more for a clear blessing. "You don't mind, do you, son? Both of our lives will be for the better."

Austin shakes his head, trying to find the right answer. "No," he says softly, but sternly.

"Just think about it," Phil continues without acknowledging his response, "this little magic potion could solve all our problems." From the pocket of his coat, he retrieves the bottle of transparent fluid and admires it from up close. "We can both return to our lives. Like nothing happened."

Austin listens. It sounds like an appealing option. It's all he wants. He wants to forget, he wants to do the right thing, he wants this all to disappear. He wants to go back to his old life, where the thing he was responsible for, was keeping his reports typo-free. He's been carrying the weight of his own life, but also the weight of responsibility, of making the right choices. He wants it to end. He wants to surrender.

"You don't have to tell your boss anything. The security cameras are not recording anything until I'm out of the building. The lady will pass away peacefully in your colleague's shift. And I'll disappear forever." Phil makes it all sound so easy. The only thing he has to do is give him the green light and it'll be over. He can't wait to see his mother again. "Sweet deal, don't you agree, agent?"

He's tempted to say yes. But he doesn't. He's not sure why. Something still isn't quite right and knows it very well in the back of his head. While Phil awaits a response not so patiently, he shakes his head again. He can only stare at Allison with glazed eyes. Phil rolls his eyes.

"They really should know better than to put such an emotionally vulnerable kid on a case like this," he mutters to himself. "Anyway."

The next movement seems to go in slow-motion. The full syringe moves towards the tube, the needle looking exceptionally sharp as it enters the tube. Then, in a flash, a thought crosses Austin's mind. With the speed of lightning, a scene plays in front of his eyes. A street in a little town in eastern England, tourists, street artists, loud music and bright colours. She told him something she had no reason to lie about, hence, he had no reason to doubt it. _"_ _I can't even be near any kind of makeup without swelling like a balloon_ _."_

"Allison's allergic to makeup," Austin whispers, his eyes widening with recollection. He looks at Phil with different eyes and recognizes the manipulation, the clever words he used to make you question everything you knew that Allison had warned him about. He fell for it, for a moment.

"What was that?" Phil hadn't heard him. Maybe it was for the best. The hand holding the syringe had frozen and a single movement would seal Allison's faith. To save her, he must do what was right. As he raises the gun, he doesn't hesitate for a second.

"It's over, Phil."

* * *

Austin never thought a single sound could cause that much chaos. Within seconds, two security agents appeared in the doorway. They directed one glance at Austin, still frozen in place, and one glance at Phil, clutching his thigh where a blood stain was drenching the fabric of his jeans. He had released a single scream before simply whimpering, his eyes squeezed shut and pearls of sweat appearing on his forehead in insufferable pain. Austin was breathing heavy, jerky breaths and Allison lied unmoved, still.

After explaining the situation to his father and the rest of the team, he'd done this too often this past week, he accepted a hot drink just because it seemed that his father desperately needed to console him. Then, it took him no less than 15 minutes to convince him that he needed to be by Allison's side when she woke up. In return, his father told him it was unprofessional, irresponsible, crazy, not to mention that it could be days until she woke up. Austin said he didn't mind. He said he was the only person who cared about her and she might want to see him after everything she went through. His father complied, eventually. And that's how he ended up sitting in the chair next to her bed.

He figured he needed at least an hour to decide what to say to her once she woke up, but she merely gave him ten minutes. It started with a jerk of her hand, which he missed as he was staring at his own clutched hands, lost in thoughts. He wouldn't have noticed the movement if it hadn't been for the noise it caused. A jingle, a metallic clinking sound that he'd heard only once before, but which evokes a clear memory.

A gold man, gold clothes, gold hair, gold makeup. A gold jingle bell that the street artist handed him before Austin caused a gleeful smile by gifting it to Allison. She was clutching it in her fist. Why did she have it? And how? After all, she got shot, underwent surgery and got placed in a hospital bed where her clothes and belongings had been taken away. But before it all, she must've saved the bell and retrieved it from her pocket. Holding onto it all this time, it must've failed to be caught by the nurse's eyes. He's not quite sure what it meant, but there was one thing that was certain; as the bullet penetrated her shoulder, she thought of him.

A burst of confidence hit him as he moves to the edge of the bed, just as Allison's eyes opened. He refrains himself from holding her hand, notifying her that he's right next to her before she notices his presence herself.

"Austin," she breathes, barely making any noise. Austin smiles in response, giving her some time to adapt to her new environment. She blinks a few times, looking at the machines surrounding her and the tubes transporting liquid into her arms. "Where am I?"

Austin understands she obviously recognizes her location, but rather asks how she got here. "You were shot. In the café," he explains carefully. He fears upsetting her but knows him being straightforward is the fairest thing to do. "Remember?" Allison shows no sign of recollection. Instead, her eyes widen as she lets go of the golden bell and reaches for her chest.

"Did you give me the locket?" Even with the pain in her shoulder, she manages to move upwards to fortify the, to her, important question. Austin fails to respond out of surprise. "The locket, Austin! Did you give it to me?"

"No, I didn't get the chance," he answers with furrowed eyebrows, recoiling from her offensive posture.

"I need the key, Austin!" She exclaims. "I need it!"

"Hey, it's okay." Gently, he leads her back down. Her hands are cold as ice and her eyes are wide with panic. "It's going to be okay, I promise." It was a false promise, but it seemed to calm her down, if only just for a moment. Once her head is safely back on the propped-up pillow, her breathing slows down. As her muscles relax, her fingertips graze against the steel of the bell. Austin chuckles, trying to lift the tension. "I see you kept the jingle bell."

Allison's eyes move to the tiny object, though a sign of recognition stays away. "What's this? How did that get here?" She picks it up by the string. Even the sound doesn't seem familiar to her. Austin's hope fades. She must've hit her head when she fell and a certain part of her memory got wiped.

"Do you remember who I am?" Allison answers his gaze. She stays silent and her face remains blank. "Do you remember anything about me? About us?" The last sentence slips through the cracks. Allison's eyes fall. She studies the covers, maybe trying to figure out who this 'us' was he was talking about, maybe digging deep inside her heart to find out whether she could share these feelings this man was seeming to proclaim. After a while, she looks up again and inhales. Austin holds his breath as he awaits her response.

"Where's Phil?" She asks. For the second time in five minutes, surprise takes away his ability to answer immediately. Why would she think of him? Could it be that she completely forgot the past week? She urges him, "Does he know I'm here?"

Then, Austin understands. She's afraid. Why didn't he think of that before? He smiles, taking her hand. She eyes his movement, confused and apprehensive. "He won't hurt you anymore," he assures her, moving his thumb over the back of her hand.

"What do you mean?" A bit fearfully, she pulls her hand out of his grip.

Austin shrugs away his hurt feeling. "We're counting on fifteen, maybe twenty years." She refuses to copy Austin's gleeful smile filled with pride and relief.

"What?" She whispers, worry painted all over her face. "No!"

"Hey, don't worry," Austin continues, guessing what must cause her panic, "the judge will understand your position. I'll testify for you, we're doing everything we can to help you."

"How many times do I need to tell you I don't want your help?" She exclaims in a sudden outburst. Austin backs away, not knowing how to deal with any more mood swings. He's clearly out of practice after leaving the ship. Allison averts her attention and looks around the room frantically. "I want to see Phil."

Austin realizes she's not afraid. She's still under his control, even when in the hospital because of him. "He's the one who ordered to shoot you in the first place." It's direct, but it might help her snap out of it.

"No, he's not," Allison persists. "He didn't have a choice, you weren't sticking to the plan."

"He was in your room, Allison! He tried to kill you!" It was his turn to raise his voice. He understands that she might be wary of him, but his patience was running thin. He couldn't take her lack of rationality into consideration. He just wanted to be right.

"Phil wouldn't do that, he's my brother. He loves me," she states determinedly, crossing her arms. Austin's baffled, but more importantly, defeated. There was no hope for her. She would remain Phil's minion for eternity. Not even his love could change that. "Where is he now?" Allison demands.

Austin's jaw tightens, all sense of discretion out the window. "I shot him."

"You what?" Allison asks in horror.

"He's fine, it's only his leg," he explains, hiding the fact that he'd loved to damage other parts. "You would've been dead if I hadn't."

"You could have killed my brother!" Hatred fills her eyes. He wonders how she manages to ignore the pain she is in. It's like the adoration for her brother is greater and more powerful than any of the physical pain she's enduring. "He's all I've got!"

"You've got me!" He's sure he didn't mean to spill it like that, but he wasn't able to hold it back. It was something he'd reminded her off numerous times, yet she never accepted the offer. He was foolish to think this time could be different.

"Well, maybe I don't want you." Her tone is vicious like she's purposely trying to hurt him. And she succeeds. There's also a hint of desperation, which doesn't quite match the rest. "Have you ever considered that? I never asked for you to be here."

"I don't need your permission to keep you safe," Austin retorts, but there's no stopping the waterfall of destructive words.

"It's, like," Allison persists, "you purposely kill everything you touch. Everyone _I_ love! Why are you so selfish?" She takes a second to catch her breath but stops. She waits a few seconds before speaking like she wants the following sentence to be crystal clear. "I hate you," she speaks calmly.

Like Austin can feel the storm coming, he gets up from the bed and walks backwards slowly. "I hate you! Get away from me!" She makes so much noise that nurses come check on her. As he presses himself to the wall, he watches the people restrain the young woman with care. Allison is screaming, clawing in every direction. Groping for the jingle bell that was still lying next to her, she throws it in Austin's direction. A calming liquid gets added to her drip feed and her panic attack washes away as her eyelids fall.

* * *

Austin didn't obey her order. After waiting until the chaos had faded and Allison was put to sleep, he turned to one of the nurses and pleaded to be let into her room. She refused to let him. After mumbling something inaudible about keys he misplaced, she told him not to take too long. Knowing she'd stay around, he told himself to hurry.

As she lies there, totally still, he has trouble picturing how she lashed out just a few minutes ago. Though, he was there and, frankly, it was terrifying. He'd seen her angry before, but the way she defended and worried for her brother raised it to new heights. One thing was certain; something was seriously wrong with Allison. Her mood swings could indicate a bipolar disorder, but that wouldn't explain the selective memory loss she showed when they talked about the bell. All in all, he was no doctor.

He wants to fix her. But he's not sure whether she's still classified as broken or simply beyond reparation. Either way, he doubts he possesses the right tools to even try. Austin glances through the door window to discover the nurse who let him in has disappeared. He decides that's all the confirmation he needs to be able to stay longer and takes a seat at her bed.

"I can help you. I believe I can. But if you keep pushing me away, I don't think I'll survive the fight," he whispers while taking her hand in his. It sounds unfair to tell her this, but it's what he wanted her to hear. "I know it's not your fault. And I'm not even sure if you can hear me," he chuckles awkwardly, checking the door in paranoia, "but, if you can, please give me a sign, any indication at all that you know I'm here and know that I'm willing to fight for you. And let me know if you want to take on the fight with me."

In a blockbuster movie, she would open her eyes, look at him and promise to battle for recovery with him. But it's not and she doesn't.

Minutes pass and the longer he sits beside her, the less he values the chance that she would even consider letting him remain a part of her life, the louder her voice echoes in his mind that she did not have a place in his future.

Austin wonders whether he should bother waiting for her to wake up again or just leave.

* * *

 _So._

 _You want the story?_

 _The real story?_

 _The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, Amen? Right._

 _I also wanted things. But you simply can't always get what you want. That's just how the world works; it spits on curiosity._

 _What do_ you _think? If I'd told you that Allison and I were a team from the very start? That she was just as devoted to the business as I was, if not_ more? _That she volunteered to be the main character in the play she'd come up with? And that I was forced to play along, knowing how vicious and unpredictable she could be if she saw her project in jeopardy?_

 _That I have been fooling you even more than you thought I was?_

 _Would you believe me?_

 _Of course, you wouldn't._

 _You like to be told I'm the bad guy. The one I've appeared to be._

 _You like to be tricked only once, convinced and then proven right of the suspicions that were spoon-fed to you._

 _Perhaps you're wrong._

 _Could you find the courage to consider that?_

 _Maybe I was just saving for my future. Maybe bad blood pulled me into this mess. Maybe I was the one rightly terrified of their very own sibling. Maybe the desire to be a part of something important had me telling lies that I hadn't thought through. Maybe she played the game just right and I simply lost the tournament._

 _I'm not sure why I'm even trying, still._

 _You loved seeing me get caught. I got what I deserved. I used malicious ways to have Allison do exactly what I wanted._

 _Didn't I?_

 _You read between the lines. You detected the signs._

 _Or did you just read them twisted?_

 _No, I'm the one to blame. And that's the truth._

 _Or is it?_

* * *

unreal zebra chapter 12

oh my god...  
I have no words  
AH THE SUSPENSE  
I CANNOT WAIT FOR NEXT WEEK! **\- OMG suspense is basically my last name during this story. Hope you could handle the ending this week!**

Sweetgirl2711 chapter 12

Wow this was intense chapter! I hope they stop Phil so that Ally can be free. Don't let Ally die. **\- I wonder what's the first story gonna be where I kill off one of the main characters...**


	14. Chapter 14

_Austin wonders whether he should bother waiting for her to wake up again or just leave._

He decides to wait.

It takes her two hours, but she wakes up. They talk, they listen, and then talk some more. Somehow, Austin manages to persuade Allison into seeking help. She accepts, on the one condition that, wherever she must go, he'll stay by her side throughout the ride. He promises.

* * *

"Did you love Keith, Allison?" I look at the man in front of me. Long, grey and black hairs spill over the bridge of his big glasses. His notepad rests on one thigh, though using it doesn't seem a priority like he wants to assure her all his attention is directed at her alone. It had bothered her since their very first appointment. Releasing a sigh, I cross my legs. The therapist waits patiently.

"That's quite the ambiguous question, Mr McConnel," I speak, keeping up my guard. It was one of those days. I couldn't let him look into my soul each week. There would be nothing left at the end. Mr McConnel, who told me to call him by his first name, though I never comply, nods. It was his way of letting me know he had all the time in the world and would not speak until I elaborated my often vague responses. So, I continue, annoyed, "I loved Keith with all my heart. But I was never been in love with him."

Mr McConnel does not write anything down. He doesn't need to, I hadn't told him anything he didn't know yet today. "If I recall correctly, you told me last week you were visiting your brother this morning." I don't deny the statement, which he's learned is my way of giving permission to continue. "How did that go?"

I look at my hands. The four marks on my pulse were healing, slowly. The standard opening of each meeting was checking whether I'd harm myself this week, consciously or not. I'd been clean for three weeks, an ongoing record which I intended to keep.

"He still doesn't talk much," I say, rubbing my pulse vigorously. The ache is worse when talking about Phil. Mr McConnel had noticed it, too. He hands me a Barbie doll. I brush her blonde locks and it calms me like it usually does. When I told him about my wounds, he presented me with a shelf of objects. She stood out to me. It was like I knew her like I'd played with her when I was younger. I don't remember, though. Mr McConnel said it might be a memory of before Phil started to execute his control. He says more things like that, I don't register everything, especially when he talks about Phil.

"Does that upset you?" Mr McConnel digs and I wrap the doll's hair around my index finger, tugging softly.

"Should it?" I repress my irritation, but Mr McConnel's gaze drops to my hands. My actions speaking volumes.

"Those kinds of responses aren't making my job any easier, Allison," he snickers, the amused tone not found in any of his facial features. "Analysing what answers I'm looking for won't get rid of me faster, you know that."

"But it might make these meetings end earlier." I don't mean it and Mr McConnel knows it. I'm feeling particularly on edge today.

"You're frustrated," he observes and scribbles a few words down, "what happened today?"

I purse my lips. My efforts to lead the conversation in a different direction had not paid off. I should've known, Mr McConnel knows better than to let that happen. My thoughts drift to hours earlier. I don't let them consume me completely. The brick wall that guards my emotions is sturdy as ever.

"Phil told me he misses me." The grey cloth washes over me. The first time I described the feeling to Mr McConnel, he said it's something he'd heard before. He called it a coping mechanism. I seem to have gathered quite the collection.

"That confused you," Mr McConnel notes and I do not respond, so he accepts it as a truthful statement. "Phil's words and actions always had a huge impact on you. The fact that is still the case is not something to be ashamed of." I keep my eyes on the doll in my hands. The smile plastered on her face makes me want to forcefully dent her head with my thumb, but, instead, I let the silky-soft hair slip through my fingers. "I'm not saying this to discourage you, but your healing process is long and you're not even halfway. But questioning Phil's intentions is a huge step in the right direction. I hope you know that."

"I do." Do I? Yeah, I do. I think.

"Good." I don't look at his face, so I can't tell if he believed me. We sit in silence for a few seconds. I glance at the clock. The session is coming to an end. With a little luck, he'll end it early and I can leave. Sessions like these make me believe I'll never get better.

"It was brought to my attention that you've been seeing agent Moon regularly since you were released from the hospital," he says in a neutral tone. My head snaps up. "What's your situation with him?"

"Why do you need to know?" I can't help but sound defensive.

"I understand that it's not my business, but it's important to me to note everything that has a certain kind of influence on your recovery. And if your relationship is one of those things, it's up to me to research whether that influence is positive or not." I refuse to respond, verbally and non-verbally. I leave it to him to figure out where this goes next. "I know he's the one who arranged these meetings in the first place."

"Then, what's the problem?" I snarl, fully conscious of my tone. Mr McConnel does not respond. He's used to it by now.

"You can't blame me for worrying that his presence might jeopardise your recovery." He seems genuine.

I relax my face. "What do you mean?"

"You've experienced a trauma, Allison, one that lasted years. You're improving, you are, but in your case, I would usually advise patients to, how do I put it," Mr Mcconnel carefully explains, "cut all chords." I don't respond, this time because I do not know how to. "I'm not saying that your process is surely being obstructed by your close relationship, but creating some distance might speed it up." He pauses, pulsing my reaction, but there is still none. "His presence unconsciously reminds you of your time on the ship."

He sighs, taking off his glasses. "I know I'm putting you in a difficult position, Allison. Just think about it, that's all I'm asking for now," he concludes and checks his watch. "That's all the time we have for today."

"Thank you," I say before getting up and walking out.

* * *

It was a truly nice day. It's like spring decided that on this particular day in March, it was the best time to show its face for the first time. Carefully, like it wasn't sure whether the timing was right. Like a cat finding the one light beam in a dark room, Austin had located the only bench in the park that caught the warmth the sun radiated on the people below. There, he was soaking up the heat until he caught sight of Allison.

"Hey, babe," he kisses her on the lips before leading her down to sit next to him, "How was therapy today?"

I stay silent, thinking of the best way to respond. The hesitation arises worry, as Austin's smile fades. He lifts the sunglasses off his nose before planting it in his hair. I stare at my hands, fingers twiddling in my lap.

"Austin, we need to talk," I offer softly, he and I both realizing how serious it sounds.

"Did something happen?" He asks, taking my hand from its own grip. I stare back, unknowing how to communicate Mr McConnel's worry without seeming to share his opinion. My attempt to gulp my insecurity away does not go unnoticed and Austin's brows furrow with fear.

I look at him, trying to see what Mr McConnel detected, but fail. I could not understand how this man, who saved me from years of trauma, could have a negative impact on my recovery. When I was with him, it was the only time I truly felt free from my past.

"Would you do me a favour?" I hesitantly ask him.

He looks surprised, the conversation taking a turn he hadn't predicted. "Anything."

I take a deep breath, building up the courage I needed to proceed. Interlacing our fingers, I give his hand a squeeze. "Tell me about the week we met."

"What part?" He asks, cocking his head in confusion.

"All of it." I avoid his eyes, focussing on our hands wrapped around each other. "I have some gaps in my memory and I thought you might be able to-" I finish the sentence with a shrug. "I'm just having trouble trusting my own judgement." I let out a breath. He can tell how difficult it was for me to admit that and doesn't push it.

"Should I try to stay objective to help you form your own opinions?" He offers and I shrug.

"Sure," I smile.

He purses his lips, finding the right start of the story. "I saw you that Friday for the first time." He grins shyly. "Objectively, you had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

I bite my lip and turn my head to hide my smile. "I remember that." It was crystal clear. Every moment Phil had told me exactly what to do and say had remained fresh in her memory. It was the few moments that I broke role and was forced to act out of own initiative that I failed to recall. It was a side effect of my mental condition called dissociative identity disorder, Mr McConnel had told me. The two identities battled in my head and the one influenced by Phil often won priority. It made all memories of my other self seem unreliable and straight-up fake.

"Later that day, I met Keith and Phil," he continues.

I nod. "You saw us on the deck." Austin nods, too, guessing how long I want to dwell on the moment. I don't, at all.

"Go on," I urge him softly and he does.

"The next day, you asked me to fill in because Phil had trouble with his fiancé."

"And did you?" Austin looks surprised I don't remember. I am, too. In reality, Phil couldn't play because the buyers had given him trouble. All I remember is that he sent one of his 'guys' on it. The problem was solved by the next night.

"Yes," he confirms, "I was terrified, but it went well."

I nod, a spark of recognition appearing. "They loved us."

"They did," Austin smiles. "We had some drinks." He pauses for a second and I know why. "Do you remember the night we spent together?"

"Every second of it," I assure him, though I cannot bring myself to smile. "I wish we could've experienced it under different circumstances."

"You told me the story of your mother and the drugs," he continues without acknowledgement. I can't tell if he's mad at me for that. It's obvious that he's waiting for me to confirm whether this was part of the lies I told him, but I cannot. I don't recall. It's what Phil had told me when I was younger, it's all I know. My silence is a sign for him to continue. "I got scolded for writing you off as a suspect."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, keeping my eyes on the ground.

"That night, you talked about what happened to your best friend."

"Emily existed." I waste no time to confirm, though I don't bother letting him know that I don't remember telling him about her. The conversation is taking more energy than I expected it would. "I shouldn't have mentioned her."

"It's alright," he says, but I don't know if it is. "We caught Keith and Peter the same night." He looks at me. "Did you know?"

I look down. "I recognized their voices." I sniff and stare at a few kids playing a soccer game across from us. "I've never been quite close to Peter. All I know is that he had a massive online poker debt. That was where Phil found most of his potential partners. Peter was his jackpot." I smile wryly. "I never even applied for the job. Phil took care of it."

"You kissed me." I look up in surprise. He stares back and continues, "On the cheek. But you don't remember that." I feel guilty for shaking my head, but it's true. The moment I recognized Keith's and Captain Wendell's voices, my memory is cut short. "I invited you to Deal the day after." He shakes his head with a chuckle. "To be fair, I didn't think you'd come."

"Me neither, but Phil allowed me to." I smile, too, a bitter one. "It makes sense now." Having me off the ship was only convenient for him. He really always was a step ahead. It was almost admirable.

Austin reaches into his back pocket and reveals a printed photograph. "We had this photo taken." I take it. It looks familiar, though I don't remember the moment at all. I wonder whether it was coincidental that he happened to have brought the photo. Something tells me it wasn't. I don't question it. "I saw the marks on your thighs."

I nod, though the memory is hazy. I'm thankful it's there in the first place, so I don't speak, afraid to forget whatever little is left. I'm not sure how Austin interprets my silence, but so I urge him to go on with a nod of my head.

"I'm sorry for accusing Keith." She remembers her outburst. Were they sitting on the square? Was she eating something? She just knows the combat in her head that made her feel lightheaded, a sensation that threatens to repeat itself.

"It's okay," she says blankly. "It could've been him just as easily."

"Do you remember the fortune teller?" Austin asks me and I nervously tug at my sleeve.

"I think so." An immensely somber feeling knocks the air out of my lungs as flashes of Austin's descriptive scenes appear in my brain. I'm not sure why it makes me sad; I should be glad I start to remember more.

"And the song you sang in the bar," he speaks and I beg him silently to stop talking because each word seems to make the feeling grow, "I think you sang it for me."

I cry. I don't even notice I do until Austin is stroking my back and I find myself clutching my knees in desperation. I don't make a noise while I sob, I've learned not to and I don't think I'll be able to shake the habit anything soon.

"Hey, Alls. It's okay," Austin shushes me, but it's not. I now realize what made me upset.

"I lost the jingle bell, Austin, the one you gave me," I whimper before running out of breath and sob some more. "I'm sorry."

"Alls..." He begins, but I cut him off. I've never felt so regretful and I must articulate it.

"I'm not sure where or how I got it, but I know it was important to me." Him using his nickname for me is the thing that keeps me from approaching insanity. I'd asked him to call me anything but my name. It made me feel bad. We'd made an appointment to have it changed in court soon after. I've been thinking about 'Ally' for a while.

"It's okay," Austin assures me again. He's not often wrong, but now he couldn't be more.

"It's not! It's not okay at all!" I cry some more as I let him pull me against him. "It's all I had left from that day and now it's gone."

Austin doesn't respond, instead, he keeps stroking my hair, only interrupting the gesture to kiss the top of my head. I don't think he's upset with me, but a little voice inside my head wants me to believe he is. Once my breathing has calmed down, he lifts me off of him and looks me in the eyes.

"I will tell you about Deal," he whispers to me and to me, only, "every day until you remember every second of it. And once the time is right, I'll take you back there." He wipes my tears until I can smile again. "But only if you want me to."

"I do." I do. I know I do. I kiss his lips for a long moment. "Thank you for staying with me through all of this."

He pulls me as close as physics allow and, for the first time in my life, I wish time would stand still. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

At that moment, I was more than sure that, eventually, it would all be alright.

* * *

 _Austin wonders whether he should bother waiting for her to wake up again or just leave._

He leaves, but not before leaving something on her bedside table. It's a photo of them in Deal, the sharpest of the series. He's not sure why he printed the shot.

Maybe he wanted something real. Something tangible, apart from the locket, of course. Maybe he wanted proof that, or so it seemed, they were normal. Maybe he preferred a fable over reality. Maybe he wanted an altered memory. Maybe he wanted a visual where, for a split second, Phil, the drugs, the lies didn't exist. Where they were just Austin and Allison, a special agent and a band singer. Maybe he wanted something to hold that could sooth the ache for a minute.

He writes a short message on the back with his phone number at the bottom, folds it twice, and places it next to her. Then, he leaves the room.

 _Dear Alls,_

 _If I do not see you again, know that I wish you all the happiness. You're strong and I'm sure that you can leave your past behind you. You can do it alone, if you want to, but if you ever find yourself struggling to continue, I'd love to enter your life again. You might doubt it now, but I am the person who can, and is willing to, fight for you, no matter how much it might tear me down. Because I know the real you and I believe I am the only one who can make her surface._

 _Austin_

 _Ps. Guess you've gotten your hands on the photo after all. The world is funny like that sometimes._

* * *

A year passed and Austin's life had moved forward. A week after returning to the office, he knocked on his father's door and handed him his resignation. The man had not looked disappointed. Not relieved. Frankly, he had not shown any facial expression that gave away a response. He simply nodded and got back to whatever important paperwork had consumed his attention before Austin knocked on his door. Austin walked out and never looked back.

In fact, he walked away from everything that reminded him of that week on the ship. Instead, he spent most of his time attending classes at his local community college in the search of finding the thing he was actually passionate about. He'd gotten so far that the name 'Phil' didn't remind him of the man that almost ended his life, but rather the professor of his favourite class. Life was good. More importantly, life was _different_.

That's why he couldn't help being hesitant when the woman that called him one day announced herself as the counsellor of inmate Allison Dawson.

Austin sighs soundless. He hadn't heard that name in a long while and he couldn't deny it struck a nerve. "Would you mind me asking how you got my number?"

"Of course, my apologies," she responds. The woman sounded rather hopeless, which is why Austin granted her the benefit of the doubt. The least he could do was hear her out. "Allison has been my client since she got sentenced to fifteen years for accompanying in drug trafficking."

Fifteen years. Austin has to take a second to comprehend. He never realized how serious the consequences would be for Allison. He never even considered she'd meet those consequences, no matter how naïve that may sound.

"Accompany?" It comes as a surprise she didn't get the full sentence. He remembers his dad telling him they had to hand over all gathered data, which had probably convinced the jury of Phil's role in their relationship. He wonders how much time Phil had gotten.

"Precisely. There were recordings that explained the nature of her role in the operation," the woman explains. "She fully owed the reduced sentence to those."

"What do you mean?" Austin could tell that her explanation carried some weight.

"She didn't speak a word during her trial. She didn't even ask for legal defence. She just... sat there. Staring straight ahead." The woman sounds thoughtful like she's still trying to comprehend the matter. "There hasn't been a single session where she hasn't asked me about Phil. Phil, himself, hasn't spoken about Allison at all, I've been informed."

"This still doesn't explain-"

"The only object she was carrying was a photograph. Your number was on the back." Austin doesn't respond. The woman catches his hesitation in the silence. "Look, I understand if you've changed your mind after all this time, but that message was genuine at that time. You might be her only hope."

Austin was eager to decline. His thumb hovers over the red button on his screen

"She really needs you, Austin," she hurriedly adds, desperation seeping through her words. He clutches the phone and feels his jaw trembling.

"When do you need me?"

* * *

Time for my daily session with Dr Haven. Hurray.

I didn't even mind the length of my sentence. These 'recommended' therapy sessions were the real punishment. Especially with Dr know-it-all. The snob never even let me know how Phil was doing. Like prisoners have no right to certain information. Well, since I wasn't interested in a reduced sentence anyway, I found no use in these sessions. And I made sure to let Karen know every week. Though, this session started off differently.

"I reached out to the agent you met onboard." I hardly respond. She probably opened with that to make some kind of impression on me. As if. "He was more to you than just a threat to the organisation, wasn't he?" She slides something my way. It's a photograph. I'm in it and the agent is too. Staring at it arises a vague kind of headache, so I shove it back to her. "Why have you never talked about him with me?"

I scoff, her dumbing questions still astounding me. "Isn't it obvious?" He shot my brother. He put him here. He put _me_ here! I have nothing to say about him." I cross my arms as Karen waits until I continue. "Not to mention that he probably killed Keith, too."

Karen sighs impatiently. "Allison. One of your brother's accomplices killed him. Phil ordered him to." I refuse to speak. She sounds like she's repeated this to me often, though she didn't. I'm sure of it. Karen feels the need to prove her point further. "Agent Moon was with you that whole day."

Her words confuse me so I shake my head and move on. "You know, we would've been fine if it wasn't for him," I emphasize my words by touching the table repeatedly. "We weren't hurting anyone! We were just making a little money, having a little fun."

"I bet that justification would've done great with the jury." She can't help but add that comment and I snicker. The moments where she breaks the stiff shrink role are the moments I can appreciate her. Sadly, that doesn't happen often. "Allison, you've been stuck in phase one for months. I'm running out of ideas." I couldn't care less and I knew Karen knew that, too. "I need you to make some progress if you don't want to spend the rest of your life in here."

"Big deal," I roll my eyes. "I wouldn't want to be released without Phil anyway. And concerning Agent Moon," I smile slyly and lean back, "tell him he can drop dead, for all I care."

Karen smiles curtly before getting up from her seat. I look at her in surprise, glad the session was cut short and I wonder what I said that, apparently, drove her nuts. But once I start to arise from the chair myself, she holds up a hand.

"You can tell him yourself." Karen nods to the man guarding the door, in which he moves his hand towards the door handle.

"Wait." My control over the situation fades and so does my confidence. I become dizzy with confusion. "I never gave permission for this! What happened to my rights?" I can only watch her walk away from me and try to not sound too scared.

"He's a part of my method. The judge agreed that it might boost your healing process," Karen tells me with exhaustion in her voice. "Or, rather, kick it off."

"What healing process? I'm fine!" I find a smile on my face out of pure disbelief. I try to find any kind of assist on the faces of the security guards surrounding me, but they merely grant me a pitiful expression. I change my approach and lean backwards in my chair. "Whatever. You're all wasting your time."

Apparently, that was the signal to open the door and let the walking disaster of my life into the room. I study him from my seat. He's wearing a grey button up and glasses, a combination that adds a few years to his appearance. Maturity was something that I had not discovered in the agent while on the ship, so this was an interesting development. Karen leads him to the chair opposed to me.

"Allison," he greets me expressionless and I smirk. This ought to be enjoyable.

"You coming here after all this time seems a tad bit desperate, don't you think?" I stare him down, but he doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. Instead, he leans his elbows on the table like Karen does when she has put up with enough of my shit. I fail to detect a single sign of the emotional and easily manipulatable boy I met.

"How are you doing?" Before I can give him a witty reply, he adds, "Mentally."

"I'm _fine,_ " I repeat, now to him. I have never held back my anger in sessions with Karen and I wasn't planning on starting now. I yell, "Why does everyone keep insisting that I'm fucking mentally incompetent or something?"

He sniffs and I narrow my eyes. Though he doesn't show it directly, his attitude seems condescending and I'm not having any of it.

"Allison, do you know what a dissociative identity disorder is?"

I sigh deeply. There's no hiding my disinterest in this conversation. "A mental disorder characterized by two distinct personality states and memory impairment, caused by trauma or other forms of stress," I numbly repeat the words I had heard so many times from a dozen different therapists. I scoff. Yeah, as if. I was feeling greater than ever. I just needed to see Phil and he would find a way to get us out of here.

"Say," he announces and gives me a penetrating look, "do you remember what happened before you got transported to the hospital?"

I answer his gaze fearlessly and make sure I emphasize the blaming tone in my voice. "I was shot by one of your colleagues."

Austin doesn't respond, but Karen sighs hopelessly behind him. I raise an eyebrow in a challenging fashion. What was wrong with her response? It was the truth. It was what her brain told her and she knew she could trust it.

"What happened before that?" Why does he need to know? I don't like to think back to that day. It gives me headaches.

"We, we talked about the deal." I can't help but stutter the sentence. I simply don't know for sure. The memory is quite hazy.

"What did you tell me after I knocked the drink over?" He looks at me, but his stare is too much. I direct my attention to the table that looks particularly punch-able.

"You didn't knock a drink over," I tell him firmly. Meeting his gaze once again was a mistake. There's something in his eyes, something familiar. Something that makes me unsure about my convictions. "Did you?"

He doesn't answer my question. "What do you remember about the day we spent on land together?"

"I-" Austin cuts me off, but, honestly, I wouldn't be able to form a sentence anyway. The air around me is getting thinner.

"The lady that read your hand," he continues. It sounds familiar, but not real at the same time. Like it happened in another life. I touch my head. It feels like a war is going on inside. "The song you performed in the bar." He mercilessly pushes on and I take a deep breath, desperate for oxygen that this room seems to lack. He whispers, "Was I the only exception, Alls?"

The edge of the table is pressing against my ribs so I shove my chair backwards, but it doesn't' solve the problem. I collapse forward because maybe there is more air near my feet. My hands twist themselves in my hair and I pull. I pull and I pull, but the screams won't escape my brain. They tell me to be quiet, even though I don't speak. The walls are closing in on me, but Austin doesn't seem one tad bothered. He's staring at me and I notice my mouth is moving. I'm not making any sense and I wonder if Austin understands what I'm saying. He seems to understand me better than I do, now, after all.

The moment I grab hold of the paper cup filled with hot tea is when the security lunches at me. Other men pull Austin out of his chair and guard him from me. They must've thought I wanted to throw it at Austin, but they were wrong. I wanted to find a way to pour it into my brain. Maybe it would dissolve one of the voices. I didn't even care if it was the truthful one. I just wanted there to be fewer.

They're starting to take Austin towards the door as I'm sobbing. That's the moment I realize that they're taking him away, forever. I also realize that is not what I want. I want him to stay. I want him to keep talking. I want him to look at me and listen to what I have to say. I want to be reminded of what his touch feels like.

"Austin!" He stops his tracks and the whole room is looking at me. His words might've made me feel like I was dying, but at least I felt _something_. I hadn't experience that sensation since I got here, in fact, as long as I can remember. My hair had fallen in front of my face, but I can see a painful expression on his face. Does he suffer seeing me like this? "Will you be back?"

He exchanges a look with Karen. Presumably, it's not enough to form an immediate decision because it takes him a while before responding. He looks at me thoroughly.

"Please?" I urge him. Somehow, I don't think I'll survive if I don't see him again. "I-I think I need you."

He twists his lips into something that is nearly a smile. His gaze drops to my wrists and he looks away quickly. I try to see what he sees, but only see the wounds that have been there my whole life. Then, no matter how cautious, he nods.

"Of course, Alls." I can breathe for the first time in, what feels like, ages. The guards move me away from him, but, today, I don't mind the roughness of their grips. I will see him again. He will clear the mess in my head. It is a thought that makes me feel warm. Everything might just turn out alright.

* * *

 _Austin wonders whether he should bother waiting for her to wake up again or just leave._

He just leaves.

They do not meet again.

And that is not alright.

* * *

 _The truth._

 _That's the one thing I managed to preserve. It's staying with me, behind bars._

 _Never reveal everything you know. A wise man once told me that._

 _You see, knowing the truth gives you power. Power to control the future. And no one is supposed to hold that much influence in the palm of their hand._

 _Everything is connected. Every decision has results. Every action has a reaction. A choice you make to protect someone else may have fatal impacts on yourself. Doing something because it seems like the right thing at that moment might make you miss out on something that brings you more happiness than you've ever known._

 _One thing is certain, though._

 _This whole mess can be blamed on love. Sibling love, to be exact._

 _Because, the real truth is, one of us did love the other._

 _Undoubtfully._

 _Truly._

 _Madly._

* * *

 **A long chapter as a final epilogue. I hope you enjoyed this ride. I know I did. I managed to finish this little experiment with a chapter I'm truly proud of and I hope that it was everything you wanted and more. I'll see you in an indefinite time. Until then xx**


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